Himself is making heavy weather of his dose of the Manflu
Published 11/03/2016 | 00:00
There is a word for wanting to kill your spouse.
I can't recall what it is but I would have cheerfully done it last week after Himself contracted Man Flu/the Bubonic Plague/Ebola otherwise known as a head cold and kept me awake for four nights on the trot.
He started sniffling and snorting on a Monday. We were going to Paris for the weekend with the children, supposedly for a few days of culture (that in itself is another story) so it was important that we were all well rested for the traipsing around we'd be doing. The night before we left, he dosed himself with some flu remedy and conked out, leaving me listening to him snoring and spluttering and coughing all night. I started off gently nudging him and telling him to turn over. By 4am I hit him a dig and hissed 'would you shut the f*** up!'
He woke up the next morning and his first words were 'Ah Jaysus I had a terrible night's sleep,' snort snort. 'At least YOU got some sleep,' I snapped back, crawling out of bed and into the shower. We all managed to get into the car and hit the road on time where I was subjected to another two hours of coughing and sniffling. The children plugged in their earphones and no amount of bribery would make them give me a loan of a pair.
Long story short we made it to Paris. While in the queue for passport control we spotted a load of Chinese wearing masks. 'Why are they wearing masks?' the Youngest asked. 'Because they're afraid they'll contract your father's plague!' I replied.
'Oh you're hilarious,' said Himself, blowing the entire contents of his respiratory system into a Kleenex as the Chinese contingent looked on in horror, The Teenager then decided to get in on the act. 'Dad I'd be surprised if they let you into the country, you're highly contagious! They'll probably arrest you and put you in quarantine.'
And on it went for the whole four days we were there. He snorted up the Eiffel Tower, down the Champs Elysee, in the Sacre Coeur and all over the Louvre. The only time he managed to keep his germs to himself was when he had a few drinks. Miraculously then, the coughing an spluttering stopped.
One night after a few too many glasses of wine he proceeded to tell us how annoyed he was with us all for our lack of sympathy over his illness. 'I'm never ill. NEVER. And the one time, THE ONE TIME I get sick, all you do, the whole lot of you, is take the mickey out of me. I'll remember that the next time one of ye is moaning when you're sick. I haven't complained once.'
The Teenager refuted this allegation. 'Dad you haven't stopped complaining. You've told us at least ten times that you're dying since we got here.' The Youngest concurred, 'yeah Dad and you haven't died yet!'
He sniffled and snorted and knocked back his wine, before saying, 'Ah yeah, I'll remember that!' then passed out in a heap of snotty tissues. We covered him with a blanket and left him there.
Well it was either that or kill him!