I don't have kids... unless you count my 26-year-old husband, who up until a couple months ago, couldn't even pour his own cereal. But I love to cook so I didn't really have a problem with it. I mean, I always thought that if I got really sick... I *would* have a problem.
A few months ago, I came home from work one day, and the toaster was sitting on the counter (it's usually stored in a cupboard). Toaster on the counter could only mean one thing... Jeremy made his own breakfast! I stopped dead in my tracks and tried to come to the realization that Jeremy had, in fact, done something for himself.
"Honey?" With a HUGE grin on my face, "Did you make your own breakfast?! I'm SO proud of you!" I run to him with open arms and squeeze him tightly.
He looked at me sheepishly. "I... uhhh... I scared the puppies..."
Pause.
"I made the smoke alarm go off."
I stare blankly at him. Blink. Blink. I'm speechless.
I try to muster some words. "Uhh... you made the smoke alarm go off?" I peer around him again to see if I missed anything. All I saw was the *toaster* on the counter. Toaster. Smoke alarm. Huh?!
The sheepish look from Jeremy continued. "Well, see, I wanted to make an English Muffin. And I guess... well, I guess you're supposed to put the butter on *after* you take it out of the toaster."
[Enter hysterical laughter from me here.]
And finally... three weeks ago... I got VERY ill. Two ER visits, convulsions, about ten fainting bouts, fever, don't turn the lights on unless you want to be beaten, couldn't even sit on my own and had to pee in a bed-pan-kind-of-sick. Yeah, sick.
My husband finally had to say, "Holy Crap! She's really sick this time! She has to stay in bed for two weeks. And not only do I have to pour my own cereal and make my own toast, but I have to *make* and *bring* her food and Gatorade!"
I am pleased to say he made it through with flying colors! I mean, so what if I lived on bean soup and toast! *He* made them! Well, okay he didn't technically *make* soup. He opened a can of Campbell's Condensed and poured it in a bowl... but still!
So the sickness has ended, and I have quite the independent husband. ;) And even though my entire life, I was thinking, "Why can't somebody take care of *me* when I'm sick?!" when I finally DID get sick enough that somebody had to take care of me... I wanted to scream. Granted, I was too weak to scream... or sit... or open my eyes... but it was so frustrating not to be able to do *anything* because I always do *everything*, that I hated every moment of it, and thank GOD I'm just about back to normal! :D
And it really made me realize how independent I am, and wow, I love that feeling! *sigh* I feel better now.
A few months ago, I came home from work one day, and the toaster was sitting on the counter (it's usually stored in a cupboard). Toaster on the counter could only mean one thing... Jeremy made his own breakfast! I stopped dead in my tracks and tried to come to the realization that Jeremy had, in fact, done something for himself.
"Honey?" With a HUGE grin on my face, "Did you make your own breakfast?! I'm SO proud of you!" I run to him with open arms and squeeze him tightly.
He looked at me sheepishly. "I... uhhh... I scared the puppies..."
Pause.
"I made the smoke alarm go off."
I stare blankly at him. Blink. Blink. I'm speechless.
I try to muster some words. "Uhh... you made the smoke alarm go off?" I peer around him again to see if I missed anything. All I saw was the *toaster* on the counter. Toaster. Smoke alarm. Huh?!
The sheepish look from Jeremy continued. "Well, see, I wanted to make an English Muffin. And I guess... well, I guess you're supposed to put the butter on *after* you take it out of the toaster."
[Enter hysterical laughter from me here.]
And finally... three weeks ago... I got VERY ill. Two ER visits, convulsions, about ten fainting bouts, fever, don't turn the lights on unless you want to be beaten, couldn't even sit on my own and had to pee in a bed-pan-kind-of-sick. Yeah, sick.
My husband finally had to say, "Holy Crap! She's really sick this time! She has to stay in bed for two weeks. And not only do I have to pour my own cereal and make my own toast, but I have to *make* and *bring* her food and Gatorade!"
I am pleased to say he made it through with flying colors! I mean, so what if I lived on bean soup and toast! *He* made them! Well, okay he didn't technically *make* soup. He opened a can of Campbell's Condensed and poured it in a bowl... but still!
So the sickness has ended, and I have quite the independent husband. ;) And even though my entire life, I was thinking, "Why can't somebody take care of *me* when I'm sick?!" when I finally DID get sick enough that somebody had to take care of me... I wanted to scream. Granted, I was too weak to scream... or sit... or open my eyes... but it was so frustrating not to be able to do *anything* because I always do *everything*, that I hated every moment of it, and thank GOD I'm just about back to normal! :D
And it really made me realize how independent I am, and wow, I love that feeling! *sigh* I feel better now.
4 comments:
He scared the puppies?! What an adorable response!
Glad you are feeling better now. Sounds awful to be so sick!!!
Hilarious.
I had a roommate who burned Ramen once. Seriously.
Glad you're better Ray!
Glad you are feeling better!
I fear if i got that sick I {and our children} would either starve to death or live on pizzahut pizza {morning, noon and night}!!! LOL
Michelle.
First off I am so very sorry that you were sick! I'm so glad that you are doing better now. When I was sick the kids ate grilled cheese sandwiches every day I was in the hospital.
Him putting butter on the toast before putting it in the toaster is PRICELESS. LOL
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