Chris is home sick for the second day in a row. He's definitely sick, but not in that miserable I-can't-move-without-groaning way that the men I know and love tend towards. More in the I'll-be-OK-if-all-I-have-to-do-is-sit-around-and-read way that I normally get sick. (I read once that there are biological ways in which men's and women's bodies respond to illness and that men actually do feel sicker than women from the same illness. This book was written by a man).
I'm torn apart by guilt over the fact that this minor illness allowed me to go for a run alone at 10:30 this morning and that I enjoyed this run very much. Also went to the library alone yesterday and to the grocery store (where I bought him juice and Airborn and crackers and soup which he didn't eat for lunch because he wasn't very hungry). I'm sure the boys are also torn apart by guilt over the fact that Dad is home to answer random questions in his grovelly sick-voice about Star Wars, and to make tea and look at every pattern made by the pattern blocks.
Families need more time together. I mean, seriously. When having someone home sick feels like a mini-vacation for everyone but the sick person, it's got to mean that families need more time together.
1 comment:
Of course, "sit-around-and-read" was true about half the time. threst was sleep-a-book-on-my-lap-and-a-cat-on-my-shoulder.
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