My husband is sick. Not like a puking sick, and it doesn’t seem like the flu. It’s just the kind of sick you must get a couple times a year when your body tells you, “HEY JERKFACE! WHY DON’T YOU GET SOME DAMN SLEEP!” He was up for nearly 40 hours straight last Thursday and Friday and I think it finally caught up with him. Well, he – of course – thinks it’s the fekking plague, and that he’s terribly contagious and that I must stay far, far away from him for fear of making the baby ill. I told him if I’m going to get it, I’m going to get it. Him holding a sheet over his face as he talks to me is not going to prevent the germs from spreading when we live in the same place, sleep in the same bed, etc.
Now, even though he claims to be so sick he insists on going to work. The man is crazy when it comes to sick days – HE NEVER USES THEM! I told him if he is well enough to go to work then that means he must not be contagious because surely he would be responsible enough to not expose his coworkers to that. The rest of our conversation went like this –
Me: If you are well enough to go to work, then you are just fine to be around me without freaking out about me getting sick.
Him: Jill, nobody at work is pregnant.
Me: Pregnant women get sick. It happens. I will be fine. I can not live in a bubble for the next six months!
Him: Oh yes you can. I already ordered the bubble. It will be here soon. Don’t worry, I’ll push you around in it.
Fes up…who sent him the mail order pregnancy bubble catalog?
13 weeks 1 day