Neither of us is very good at…

taking care of each other when we are sick for more than 8 hours.

I’m not sure why our capacity for being compassionate, helpful, and kind runs out at the 8 hour mark –  but it does. Ben took me to the doctor for my icky strep, let me sleep all day, and even got me Culver’s for dinner, which I cheerfully choked past my spotty, white, tonsils. But after that, I could tell he was ready for those dang antibiotics to get movin’ already.

I could get mad, except I’m the same way. Every time he comes down with a migraine, I feel the clock start ticking. I tuck him in, bring him his medication, make sure the toilet is nice and clean for his puke session, get the kids out of his hair, darken the room… and 8 hours later I’m whippin’ out my “Honey Do” list.

Dear God,

It’s OK with me that hubby and I aren’t awesome at this. Please don’t teach us about taking care of one another through serious and long and terrible illness. I really love him and promise to try to make it to 10 hours next time.

Love,

Me

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