John and I are sick. I would say we have colds, but I don’t think the word “cold” conveys quite the level of suffering and pain we are enduring. Friday, we both found it difficult going to work because of the congestion, soreness, and exhaustion. Saturday we sat around the house wheezing and blowing our noses (or me blowing mine, him sniffling it all into his throat, which has always been a pet peeve of mine with people in general. He seemed totally shocked that this would bother me in the least, and I am totally shocked by his unwillingness to blow his nose.) But otherwise we made the best of it, both took as much dayquil as we could, and foraged around the house for appropriate things to eat. He had chicken noodle soup from a can for breakfast and we shared a frozen pizza for lunch. I tried to make some chicken soup from scratch– but minus the chicken. I put in some diced tomatoes and lima beans. And lots of ginger, garlic, and thyme because they’re supposed to have antibiotic properties. I thought it was pretty dang tasty, but after the first few bowls the stuff started turning a sort of brownish gray color and has now lost any minor shred of appeal it once may have had. Also we watched movies: The English Patient, Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, and Gosford Park. (Our attempts at compromise. I almost cried when he dismissed Mansfield Park, and he responded with grace and goodwill when I didn’t want to watch Lethal Kill Death VII or whatever it was that he suggested we watch.) We set our alarms for church but decided it probably best to keep our germs to ourselves for another day. But now we’re really low on food… John is finally out of bed. He just snorted his snot again and I moaned. He told me that I have had no personal growth since yesterday. I told him that he’s had no personal growth, because he is clearly in the wrong here. Am I right? Am I right? Or maybe through some horrible process of adaptation men have become more prone to find means other than kleenex for dealing with nasal congestion because they would die in battle if they stopped to blow their noses or something? But regardless, John is still the most amazing man…. He just went around the house and picked up the 873 used tissues that we have both strewn about & is taking the trash out and now making me breakfast as I sit here and type about his nasal hygiene habits.