Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Wednesday's Words for November 25, 2009

There’s a video on youtube—I’ll let you look it up yourselves if you’re so inclined—called The Man Cold.

I’ve shown it to several of my female acquaintances and they all agree: that’s their man!

I’d like to inform you all that Mr. Ashbury is quite different from that video. Yes, I’d really like to tell you that. But unfortunately, I can’t.

Like most men, he regresses when he’s not feeling well. Unlike most men, he doesn’t do a lot of complaining. The reason is simple. It’s his desire to be noble in death.

Yes, Mr. Ashbury convinced himself long ago, before we got married actually, that he was going to die a young man. Hence, every time he’s a bit sick, or thinks he needs to see the doctor, in his mind it is the beginning of the end.

Now that didn’t come across with sufficient gravity. Let me try again. It Is The Beginning Of The End. Yes, he still believes he’s going to die young, even though I, (not indelicately you understand) pointed out that he wasn’t exactly young any longer.

His propensity for being convinced that his demise is imminent is known by every member of the family, and has become kind of like an inside joke.

You would think with this kind of thinking that Mr. Ashbury would be the first to line up for a flu shot each year, but alas, he only had it once, and then it was by ambush (he went with me when I got mine last year; our doctor is a force to be reckoned with).

I must report to you, as of writing this Tuesday evening, that Mr. Ashbury has a cold – poor little bunny. He took the day off work Tuesday, a fairly rare occurrence for him. This is a sign to me that he has a Bad Cold, and that indeed it could be The Beginning Of The End.

He has no fever. He is not coughing. He is not sneezing. He is not particularly achy, and while he claims he has been a bit sweaty, he hasn’t had the chills. Nor has he been lying around the house moaning—at least, not overly much.

He does, however, have a sore throat, and his sinuses have been bothering him.

I wasn’t to make a dinner that night, he informed me in the morning. Chicken soup was to be his menu of the day. So far, he has had two doses.

I also prepared my usual winter night time beverage of hot lemon. Very simple: cut a lemon into a pot, add water, simmer several hours. Then re-heat in the evening, pour some into a cup and add honey (for me just a touch of honey, and artificial sweetener).

He said that yes, he would take the hot lemon. This is yet another sign of how serious this cold is. He hates hot lemon.

By the way, just like that video on youtube, I have a cold too. Only I didn’t give mine to Mr. Ashbury – poor little bunny. He actually gave his to me.

He slept all morning yesterday, after getting up and having a cup of coffee. Then, around noon, he got up to lay in his recliner and rest. I gave him some chicken broth, which was what I was having too.

And since I didn’t have to worry about going out anywhere, such as to drive for an hour and a half fetching Mr. Ashbury from work, I thought I would fight my cold with an afternoon nap.

He woke me when he came back to bed about an hour and a half later to tell me he was coming back to bed. And no, he really didn’t feel that much better.

I have my fingers crossed that as you read these words, Mr. Ashbury will have returned to work—poor little bunny.

I figure that’s the only way I’m going to be able to get some rest myself.

I wish all my American friends a warm and wonderful Thanksgiving…and a happy birthday to Wednesday’s Words. It’s three years old – and no one is more amazed about that than I am!

Lots of prizes, lots of fun
Morgan’s Christmas Party

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