There is nothing worse than a sick baby. So helpless, so weak, so completely pathetic. They sleep all day, and when they’re awake, they just whine and groan, and there’s nothing you can do to make them feel better.
Oh wait, I’m sorry, did I say “baby” up there? I meant “husband.” There’s nothing worse than a sick husband.
I am so over the man-flu, y’all. There is nothing I dread more than our baby getting sick—not because of the sleepless nights, the endless snot-sucking, or the cursed antibiotics and all the delightful side effects they bring along; I can handle all of that—but because I know that inevitably, my husband is going to catch it, too.
My son is in daycare part-time. Just often enough to bring home allllll the germs. His nickname is “patient zero” because he’s taken out our entire family (grandparents, aunts, and uncles included) on more than one occasion.
But somehow, there’s only one family member who gets the worst of the worst, every. single. time.
Who is down for the count, unable to move, breathe, or do anything but watch Netflix on the couch for 5 days? Husband.
Who is too doped up on NyQuil to help with the baby crying in the middle of the night for the fourth night in a row? Damn husband.
Who uses 472 tissues, but can’t manage his way to the trash can? Gross, grubby husband.
Who simultaneously doesn’t want anything you’re cooking, but is too starving & famished to make whatever unicorn-tear-infused dish does sound appealing to him? You know where I’m going with this… Husband.
Who refuses to even be near the baby, let alone change a damn diaper, for fear of “getting him sick” (with the same illness he already has)? That walking dirty diaper himself… HUSBAND.
Hey husband, remember the last time I was sick? No? That’s because I took some DayQuil and got on with my damn life, just like the rest of the moms in the world. Hell, I’m probably sick right now. But ain’t nobody got time for that.
So buck up, Buster, because I can only handle one baby at a time right now, and one of you is gonna have to fend for himself. I’m guessing the 15-month-old is gonna pull rank there, but I guess the two of you can fight that out.
In the meantime, I’m locking myself in the bedroom with the bottle of NyQuil, so I’ll see you in 48 hours.