At the first low moans of “I have a tickle in my throat,” and “I think I’m having one of my weak spells,” my heart sinks as this can only mean the onset of a Man Flu.
It’s that time of year when The Man becomes more hysterical than an ailing Victorian lady wailing “fetch me my smelling salts” and I know that I’ll be shouldering the burden of the household for the duration.
10 thoughts I have whenever the man starts hinting at a Man Flu:
1. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…”
The urge to flee the house sets in at the first sign of those weak, sickly little coughs and martyr-ish sighs.
2. “Why, why WHYYYYYY are there cruddy tissues everywhere?”
Can he not locate the bin? Can he not understand how gross someone else’s used tissues are? Evidently not.
3. “Does he sneeze at key plot points on purpose?”
Yes, I sound like a bitch. And no, I don’t care. Anyone else notice that while watching films when a character is relaying some key info, THAT is exactly the moment they choose to sneeze or do a big honking nose-blow?
4. “Is he loudly coughing all night in a bid to wake the baby?”
In my enraged Fem Fury, it certainly seems like he does. I’m fast becoming as wild and feverish as he is from this whole ordeal.
5. “Hot Whiskey paraphernalia is EVERYWHERE.”
I’m all for low-level daytime drunkenness… but only when I’m doing it.
6. How, just HOW does he think coming on to me while under a mucusy film of Man Flu is going to work?
My theory is that he is feeling energised from all his bed rest and vaguely delusional from the hot whiskies; it’s the only explanation for his thinking that I want that fleshy bag of infection sweating all over me while breathing nasally throughout. Too graphic? Too graphic, I’m sorry.
7. “He’s acting like he’s about to pass away and some teeny, tiny part of me kinda wishes he would.”
I swear I only thought this for a micro-second earlier when he complained that the hot water bottle I brought him was too hot.
8. “You’re not that f*cking sick.”
I brought him tea and toast, and he asked me to make him a sausage, bacon and egg sandwich with brown sauce. I stand by my previous statement: He’s not that f*cking sick.
9. “Oh, you’re feeling a scratchy throat coming on? Just before taking Granny to mass? How conVEEEENient.”
How does he always manage to time his Man Flu to perfectly coincide with unpleasant family gatherings Every. Single. Year. God, he’s good.
10. “Thank God that’s over….”
I will now take to the bed for my round of Fem Flu. Goodnight.
