Sharing

When you marry someone, there is an unwritten contract you sign saying you now share everything with this person.

Especially colds.

So when I woke up bleary eyed and snuffly, it was no surprise that it took me half an hour to also get Man to arise from his own foggy slumber.  And the was the beginning of a shared weekend sick day.

Since then, one of us has washed the dishes, gone to the store for tissues and other supplies,  made homemade chicken soup, and worked on homework.  The other one has barely made it from bedroom  to kitchen and back twice for sustenance.

One of us chose our spouse wisely...and that was me.  

Now, in defense of my laziness, my body is way more focused on the adorable, parasitical* human I am growing than on my own personal well being.  Leaving me in need, not only of eating for two, but also sleeping for two--though breathing seems to be optional even for one.

Besides, Tylenol cold and normal levels of caffeine have been barred from my diet. How is a girl supposed to function?

*I would just like to point out that when proof-reading, Man accused me of a Bush-ism by making up the word (parasitical) when there is a legitimate word (parasitic) already in existence.  And then he googled parasitical and had to bow down to my great lexical prowess.  And then I went back to bed.