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| with my inviseable friend: AH CHOO! |
Being married to someone, especially for a long time, means
you get used to sharing everything. You share time, dinners and TV shows, and
even go so far as to have children together. I can’t imagine having them alone. But never in my wildest dreams did I
conceive of sharing germs.
I personally am not a germaphobe, if you are sick with a
cold, I will not shake you hand, try to avoid you, wash my hands constantly,
and if you call me on the phone, won’t answer it. (Unless or course, you owe me
money) If I’m in a public place and someone sneezes, especially around the
holidays, I hold my breath and try to get as far away as possible from the
area. These are things we all like to do, no?
My children at the end of the day would bring home their
germs and give them to me. I marveled how I could step off the train, walk into
the front door and catch the colds and stomach viruses that the kids had all
day with the Little Woman (TLW) who was still standing, and I was getting sick.
They when healthy had to be found at times as they were busily playing and
living their lives. When they were sick: “Hey! Where’s Daddy? I have something
for him.”
TLW never gave me a cold or a bug and yet recently she gave
me tickets to a Broadway show starring Billy Crystal and I gave her my cold. I
ran out of ideas for gift giving, and this was all I had. She is very gracious
about her idiot husband and he is in turn very grateful she will live through
it all.
I have a habit of rating my colds: from worse to worst.
There is a very small window in between, more like a peephole. TLW likes to
remind me that the last time I had a cold, IT was the “worst cold I ever had”,
and that I say that all the time! She obviously is a bitter woman when I become
sick, worried about me.
Well, I have to go and a.) Sneeze b.) Blow my nose c.) Cough
d.) Eat
The answer is all of the above. But you did try.
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