I Do Already

Yay!  It’s the same couple from “Knocked Up”.  This looks great…

He Said: You know, I always saw myself as a “Paul Rudd” type.

She Said: Yeah, in “Our Idiot Brother”.

She Said:  You’ve all read HeSaid’s falsified heroic account of his one-day illness: how he overcame a virus with only an hour in bed and a Hulkian desire for good health. (For Better or Nurse - Part one)  Well let’s be clear - he was sick enough to pass on those filthy germs to me.  

He Said:  I told you not to hover while I hacked.

She Said:  It’s true.  My heart is forever being punished for loving too much. aaaahahahahahahahaha!  Can you imagine?  Anyway.  I woke with stomach pain and a quick skip to the loo, my darling, and ended up swirling in my own vomitous delirium for the next four days.  Here are some things that ran through my puke-addled mind:

- How do bulimics do it? I am throwing up 9 times a damn day and my jaw and neck and gut are in AGONY. They are staging a coup against me and soon my body will look like this (without the smile):

(SOURCE: http://www.ameramark.com)

- When does the next SpongeBob come on?  This show is genius and the only thing capable of distracting me from the tapeworm that’s obviously shacked up inside my colon.

- God is everywhere! (this thought is accompanied by much weeping and a series of awkward body rolls on the bedroom floor) We just need to be grateful and loving, and stop feeling anxious.  God is inside us ALL!  I see him in the trees outside and not the way my crazy 11th grade French teacher said she saw Jesus sitting in a tree, swinging his sandaled feet.  In a REAL way, like he IS the tree, do you get it??

(He Said:  If there is a God, I want Him to take note that when I was sick, I slept on the couch, and when you were sick, I also slept on the couch.  I do and do and do for you.)

- Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

- “I just threw up in my mouth a little” is something unfunny people who think they’re funny say a lot.  But I just threw up in my hand because I couldn’t make it to the bathroom on time… where I threw up in the sink because I couldn’t make it to the toilet on time.  Now who’s funny?! 

- Oh my GOD, why does it hurt to put on pants?  Not jeans - my giant pink sweats with the gaping elastic waist band.  Ohhh, they’re hurting my sickly thighs!

(He Said:  You think you had it bad?  I had to look at you in those things.)

- Get me some more ginger ale!  And a piece of toast!  Where ARE YOU???????

- I shall stay in this bed forever…

He Said:  If I could, I would have taken all your sickness and transferred it to my body. 

She Said:  Aww!

He Said:  ’Cause it would’ve been less painful than being your indentured slave.  I now know what this poor slob on Downton Abbey feels like. 

(SOURCE: http://www.kathryngreeleydesigns.com/blog)

(SOURCE: horrorthon.blogspot.com)

He Said:  It finally happened.  I was the one sick in bed and not my wife.

She Said:  Why are you so proud that you never get sick?

He Said:  Because diseases are like emotions - things you don’t let other people know you have.

She Said:  Talk about sick… But I’ll confess, I was glad you got sick.  It was my turn to take care of you and I really wanted to.  After all, you always take care of me.

He Said:  What I do is way more than taking care of you.  You’re like that sitcom character who gets sick and gets a bell to summon help - except you enjoy being sick so much, the Act Break reveal is that you’ve been faking it for the last two days!

She Said:  The memory of Laura Ingalls pushing fake-wheelchair-bound Nellie Olsen down a hill is still awesomely vivid. 

He Said:  Anyway, I wasn’t that sick.  I just ate some bad oysters at a buffet.

She Said:  Considering you ate one (to six) of everything, blaming oysters seems a little cliched.

He Said:  Lack of portion control is my dad’s fault.  He taught me that you go into every All-You-Can-Eat with the sole mission that they are not making a dime off you.

She Said:  Tell him it was that game plan that left you tethered to the toilet all of Monday.

He Said:  And instilled in you an insane desire to play nurse - which is way less fun than playing doctor.  But you’re wrong.  It was a virus, so you should’ve steered clear.

She Said:  What’s wrong with wanting to help?

He Said:  I didn’t want help.  I wanted to be left alone, like a bloody, wounded animal slumped against a tree, gnawing on its fibula.  I don’t need some fawn softly mopping my brow, whispering, “Are you okay?  Is everything all right?”  Of course everything isn’t all right! I just shat so loud it startled the neighbors.

(SOURCE: ncsdconnection.com)

She Said: I did way more than whisper questions at you!

He Said:  True.  You also offered me some of your holistic, bullshit remedies.  For the record, I don’t want to try bee pollen pills or snort the hair shaved from the taint of a monkey.  I don’t care what they say it does in Chinatown.

She Said:  The healing powers of simian pubes is vastly underrated.  I wanted to be there for you.  Because I love you, because when you’re sick, I start freaking out about when you might die. 

He Said:  Okay, so, that’s why I let you get me a hot water bottle.

She Said:  And I loved doing it!  Sorry it spilled on your crotch.

He Said:  Didn’t much matter.  At the point, I had hot liquids pouring out of every orifice. 

She Said:  Hey… when you were sick, did it start with a queasy feeling in your stomach that branched out to your butt hole?

He Said:  Oh god… I’ll go get the bell.

STAY TUNED for the Sickly Chronicles of SheSaid… in our NEXT Blog Post! (bring a barf bag)

She Said:  Most days, I look at you with an adoring smile so wide it makes my cheeks hurt.  But some days it just bugs me that you never buy the right kind of Kleenex.   

He Said:  Still other days, you express a rage I didn’t know existed outside a refereed cage match. 

She Said:  Point is, I think it’s helpful, when weeping and gnashing your teeth over your partner’s various vexing habits, to recall the time before you met.  The blind dates, the awkward encounters, the painful waiting for a call that never comes.  And while dating can also be amazing - I mean, who doesn’t love the anticipation, the giddiness, the emotional intoxication of meeting a wonderful new guy, your eyes locking over drinks, your hands brushing against…  Wait, what are we talking about again? 

He Said:  How much you love me? 

She Said:  Yes!  I do.  So those times when you feel a little trapped, a little bored, or anything less than deeply grateful for your partner, I recommend making a list of the craziest people you’ve ever dated.  We’ll call it: Top Ten Folks Who Helped Make Marriage a Dream Come True. 

He Said:  We’ll do five each since you only dated five guys before me. 

She Said:  We’ll do five each since people like lists of 10. 

He said:  How many guys have there been?   

She said:  Not that many. 

He said:  When you say “not that many,” do you mean statistically for your age, or mathematically, compared to the earth’s male population? 

She said:  I hate you. 

He said:  And here we go! 

10.  The woman who said she’d recommitted to chastity, but vowed to be sexually adventurous once she was married.   

9.  The guy who calculated my age while I was talking, and responded to my story with, “Oh!  Okay, wow, so you’re a cougar.  Thought about kids?  Tick-tock!”  I was 31 at the time. 

8.  The woman who responded to any question with the “Talk to the Hand” gesture and a loud “HellLOOO?” as in, “HellLOOO?  No d’uh I want you to hold my dog while I shop, pick me up in an hour!  Wait, can I have some money?” 

7.  The guy who asked me to listen to his monologue because he was going to put it on tape and send it to Steven Spielberg the next morning. 

6.  The woman who’d casually announce it was her period at the beginning of each date.  I get it, you’re not having sex with me.  

She said:  I’m noticing a trend here for you… Anyway: 

5.  The guy who said he couldn’t understand men who used the date rape drug because he preferred his sexual partners wild and vocal.  He laughed and admitted he’d thought about using it after sex. 

4.  The woman (fan? stalker?) who made a scrapbook, poster, puzzle and shrine of me, and when I kindly told her that I wasn’t into her, dumped it all off on my front doorstep and lit it on fire. 

3.  The guy who brought the complete works of William Shakespeare on a second date and proceeded to read 11 sonnets in a row while eating chocolate-dipped strawberries.  The date took place outside.  By Lake Ontario.  In the winter. 

2.  The German model who, after telling her I liked Tyra Banks (in her modeling days), said, “Oh, so you like the darkies.” 

1. The guy whose screensaver was a picture of himself.  Naked. 

He said:  Wow. 

She said:  Right?  Buy whatever Kleenex you want.

He said:  So I asked my wife if she thought we’d need one or two suitcases for our upcoming weekend trip.  I’m proud to say that when we travel, which is a lot, I am the tour guide.  I book the flights, find the best hotels and learn about the local culture, like where to find the best chili dog.  I am the ultimate person to travel with.  That’s why I was a little miffed when her reply came as a carry-on bag to the groin.

She said:  Yeah, you’re a regular Marco Polo when it comes to travel: so excited to get where you’re going, you don’t care who gets hurt.

He said:  That doesn’t make sense.

She said:  It does if you know his mom died in childbirth.

He said:  How sad.  Not as sad if she had died during a game of Marco Polo, though.  “Marco?” “Polo.”  “Marco… Marco… Mommy?”

She said: The point is, you failed to mention this little trip is three and a half weeks away.  Who needs empty suitcases cluttering up the living room for a month, other than nefarious drug lords?

He said: I like to be prepared.  Right now, I’m putting exact change in my pocket for that toll bridge we’ll be crossing.  I just feel it’s better to sit in an airport a couple hours early, than to sit in traffic as you watch your plane fly overhead.

She said:  Okay, that’s never happened.  I’ve always made it in time for me to get a Starbucks, and that’s the only thing necessary for me to enjoy the flight.

He said:  Trust me, it’s necessary for everyone.  Until you have that coffee, the TSA keeps you on the “No Fly List.”

She said:  Getting bulkhead seats is not worth getting up before an insomniac baker.

He said:  I guess that’s why we’re a perfect couple: me wanting to be three hours early, combined with you running out the door clutching your still-hot curling iron gets us there right on time.

She said:  Now if we can find a way for you to keep your shoes and socks on during the flight, maybe those oxygen masks won’t unexpectedly fall from above.

He said:  Sounds like somebody needs another cup of Starbucks.

She said:  I’ve always believed that once the cutting board’s out, I’m cooking. Years of making Mr. Noodles for dinner counts: I sliced vegetables using a knife and a cutting board, and there was more than one thing to wash after dinner.  

He said:  I think the saddest thing you have ever told me is that you’ve never once cooked a piece of meat.  And I’m including the time after sex when you said “That’ll do.”

 She said: I can’t really explain it since both my parents are excellent cooks. I think it’s possible I was killed with a culinary implement in a former life.   When I was in Brownies, the only badge that eluded me was Cooking. My right arm was the most decorated limb of any nine year-old, boasting mastery of such relevant skills as hair braiding and rope skipping, but it took a lot of guts to go for that Cooking Badge.  Moms had to verify that their daughters made the requisite dishes to qualify, and first up was a peanut butter and jam sandwich.    

He said:  Or as it’s known in our house, your turn to cook.

She said: My mom laid out the bread on a plate and handed me a knife. I scooped up a lump of peanut butter and smeared it on the bread, causing it to stretch and rip in several places. I shoved the bread back together with my fingers and slopped on some jam, but that only made it tear more. I was so frustrated, I ran out of the kitchen crying. My mom called me back and said she would check off that I’d made the sandwich if I persevered and tried the next thing: boiling vegetables. I turned a knob on the stove and managed to cook beans or something, but the memory of that mutilated sandwich - or my ridiculous reaction to it - remains. I got the badge, but it always felt like a scam.  

He said:  I feel like I’m an enabler.  I like to cook and am good at it, so I just end up doing it every time.  Yes, you make salads but even watching you do that can be agonizing.  You may be the only person to saw at a head of lettuce. 

She said: Anyway, contrast an anguished girl fleeing torn bread with the following image:  

He said: I was going to bake something in our gas oven which hadn’t been used for awhile.  I preheated it for about 20 minutes and then opened the door.  Somehow that must have created a spark because a huge fireball roared out toward my head.  If I was Bruce Willis, I’m sure I would’ve leapt out of its way in slow motion, but being me, I just let it scorch my face.

She said: I was in the other room and heard him say, “Whoa” - not with Keanu-like awe, just mild surprise.  I came out to investigate and was greeted with something out of an Archie comic: you standing there with half your eyebrows singed off and the front of your hair fried.

 He said: Maybe this incident, coupled with your brilliant reincarnation theory, is why you’re afraid to cook.  I guess the time I was beat with a broom in prison is also why you’re too afraid to sweep the floor.
 
She said:  Seriously, why should I spend any more time than necessary in a room filled with fire and knives? If I want to eat, the world has restaurants.

He said:  I guess there are worse things in a marriage than having a wife who doesn’t cook.  I still married a kind, funny, smart, beautiful woman.  And at least you didn’t have to lie about getting your sex badge when you were a Brownie.

She said:  Okay, first off I was a child when I was Brownie, and secondly, such a badge doesn’t even exist.

He said:  It doesn’t?  Wow, my Boy Scout leader has a lot of explaining to do.