Living with the Humboldt Crud

Kate--We have colds.  And they are entirely incompatible.  I am noise sensitive when I'm sick--human noises especially bug me.  I take DayQuil and NyQuil so I can function.  I take Zicam and Airborne to try and recover more quickly.  When I'm sick I want to be left alone. Don't hover, don't fuss.  I'm mad when I get sick.  How dare someone spread their cold to me.  This time it was a co-worker and I was sloppy about the shared phone.  My fault.  But Dayem.  Spence is a whiny baby when he's sick and he sniffs and shuffles and irritates the crap out of me with the continual sighing. I can hear him right now in the other room. I confess, I was sick first and gave him the cold.  But his words to me the other night were "I never get sick."  Liar.

Spence--We have a saying where I come from out in the hills.  "I feel like I got eaten by a coyote and shit off a cliff!"  Oh yeah, rag on me for sniffling and shuffling around and blowing my nose.  I nurtured her when she was coming down with her cold, lying awake at  3:00am while she struggled with her symptoms.  I remember distinctly saying, "When it comes to taking care of you, my well-being comes second."  No, I don't take that bullshit medicine from the pharmacy, I bear down and deal with it.  When I'm sick, I want to be comforted.  I want you to hear about every ache and pain I am enduring.  I want you to get up and refresh the cold compress on my forehead at 10-minute intervals.  Is that too much too ask?   Mommy!

Kate:  I love you, Spence

Spence:  I love you, Kate.