I've been a little under the weather lately. I can feel it in my throat. And I admit, I'm a bit of a baby when it comes to being sick.
But so is my husband.
One summer a few years ago, I came down with strep throat. I had a temperature of 103 for five days. I was crazy sick, wrapped in blankets in my 90 something degree Chicago summertime apartment.
My husband and I had been dating for a little less than a year at that point.
On the third day of being sick, my husband (then adoring boyfriend) said to me, "Come on. Just get up. You're being lazy." To which, I laughed. And then ever so politely told him I had strep. He said I had a case of the lazies.
Skip ahead to about a month ago. My little husband was sick. I rubbed his back. Got him whatever he wanted. And did so in a loving, calming tone.
After a few hours of that, I took that little sick face in my hands, and with the sweetest syrupy sweet voice asked, "Isn't it nice to be taken care of when you're sick?"
"Yeah" he said with those drowsy eyes.
I (gently) slapped his cheek and said "Well then how bout you do that next time I'm sick, huh??"
I've been a little achy, chilly, etc for two days and he's taken good care of me. That then boyfriend, now husband of mine.