This story starts exactly a week ago when Ankita came down with a fever. She woke up with a sore throat which she ignored, and later sat at her desk shivering and weak, willing herself to keep tapping into her keyboard. Within hours, it had turned into a full-blown fever which ended with spitting out blood because she had torn her throat with all the coughing. So, that wasn't fun.
You know what was even less fun? Trying to take care of this little shit when she's still sick - in the head.
Scenario 1
Literally out of nowhere, she bursts into the room and starts with this great line:
Ankita: I'm so ugly when I'm sick. I mean, I'm already ugly - but being sick makes it worse. Panda eyes, SNOT! *throws up hands in disgust*
Shane: Awww, baby - you always look adorable!
Ankita: (Demonic screeching...)
Shane: (Awkward silence)
Ankita: (Sobbing...)
Scenario 2
Ankita: We NEED to talk.
Shane: (Internal monologue - IT'S A TRAP!)
Ankita: I told you to put your socks in the laundry.
Shane: (Don't say anything. Don't move. Don't breathe.)
Ankita: Not throw them willy-nilly in THE LIVING ROOM.
Shane: (Maybe she won't notice that I'm not responding.)
Ankita: SAY SOMETHING. DON'T JUST STARE AT ME LIKE A MORON!
Shane: (Continue to stare at her like a moron)
Scenario 3
I was a bit late for work and was just about to step out of the house when she woke up with a blocked nose and this happened:
Ankita: Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaby? Can you do me a quick favour before you leave?
Shane: (Taking a while to realise that the sound was, in fact, coming from my wife and not a farm animal) Yeh, sure thing, love.
Ankita: Okay, so I need you to -
- Make me a cup of tea
- And get me my painkillers
- And grab my laptop
- And run the dishwasher
Shane: .... Okay, love.
Ankita: And rub my feet?
Shane:
I could go on, but the point I'm trying to make is - I never got the man-cold after all.