What My Hubby Gave Me For Easter

I know, Easter has come and gone, but this was too special not to share. Frankly, there’s been a quite a bit of sharing going on amongst the Craig clan lately. You see, the gift hubby so graciously gave me wasn’t a large Godiva chocolate Easter bunny. Nope. It wasn’t even a cheap chocolate bunny. It wasn’t an egg-shaped diamond necklace either. It was the MAN FLU.

Now, some of you gals out there, especially the unmarried ones, might not have heard of the MAN FLU. You’ve heard of the swine flu, the bird flu, but not the MAN FLU. Well, let me tell, the MAN FLU is by far the worst of all three. Just ask any man. Okay, us women know that the MAN FLU is just the flu, but when a man has it . . . Oh, it’s totally the worse thing in the world. It means possible death. It means pain, lots and lots of pain unlike anything, any mere, weak, little woman has ever, ever known. It means . . . “fluff my pillow, bring me some soup, and can you please rub my head.”

But before I tell you any more about the MAN FLU, let’s talk about the whole sharing aspect to this blog. We were all taught the fine art of sharing as children. Well, my daughter has done an excellent job teaching this to my granddaughter. Remember, I was staying with my daughter a couple of weeks ago? Well, Lily Dale decided to share with me the bug she caught at daycare. You know the bug I’m talking about? It’s doesn’t belong to any insect variety. It’s the one that makes you walk funny and really fast to go to the bathroom. Basically, it means your butt cheeks are squeezed so tight that you have to take very short, very fast steps to make it before the poop hits the fan, or in this case the poop hits the pants. Not that Lily Dale knows how to do that walk yet—but hey, she just learned to walk period, so I gave her break.

Because we live a couple hours away from my daughter, I was actually staying at my daughter’s house. Hubby, going home to an empty house, got a little lonely. So one evening after work he decided to drive up to stay the night. It was the night I was doing the funky no-shit chicken walk. He was sweet, patted me on my head and then went and slept on the sofa—claiming he just couldn’t sleep on the bed. You believe that, right?

Needless to say, a few days later I return home to hubby with a cough and a fever. He has the all-time terrible MAN FLU. Being the good wife that I am, do I go sleep on the sofa? Oh, I could have. He even suggested I do. But nope, I open him a can of soup, bring him his meds, take his temperature, and proving I’m the superior sex, I rub his head and hope my body warmth gives him comfort in the dark of the night. Then it happens and . . . it’s bad.

Hubby’s not just coughing, he’s doing the funky walk, too. He doesn’t just have the MAN FLU, he has a combo deal. He has the MAN STOMACH FLU, too. Oh, it’s not the same stuff I had, or that Lily Dale had, because we would have been dead, or so says my hubby. Now, I didn’t give him a hard time about his belief system because I figured having two things at once, gave him just a bit of wiggle room.

He got a bit more room when I ended up taking him to the emergency room where he was admitted and kept overnight due to dehydration. I bring him home the next day, nurse him back to health, and once again prove I’m the superior sex—until right after Easter I realize the gift he’d bestowed on me. Yup, he shared his MAN FLU.

Now you are probably wondering how it could be the MAN FLU if I’m not a man. No, I haven’t grown a pair overnight. But I figure because I know I caught it directly from a man, I have claiming rights. And how bad is the MAN FLU? Well, I’m pretty sure the thing I just coughed up is a lung. It’s still moving and jiggling and trying to breathe. Thank God I have two of them.

Yup, this MAN FLU is tough. I’m hyped up on cold meds, day time, night time, and drinking cough syrup like it’s tequila shots and I’m worm hungry. This thing might be hell, and it might have taken a lung, but it’s not taking my funny bone. My sense of humor is mine to keep. Nope, I will laugh in the face of MAN FLU. I will stand strong, I will survive. But could someone please bring me some soup, rub my head, and do something about that lung laying over there? Hubby would do it, he’s been very gracious, but he had to go to work.

So what about you guys? Anyone got any MAN FLU stories? Anyone ever had the MAN FLU? Come on, share a little. I’m sick and it’ll make me feel better.

P.S. I actually recovered and am feeling better now. Hubby is all well, too. There is a life after MAN FLU.