My wonderful, amazing Ed Assistant, Amanda, always tells me, "you're such a boy," when I talk about going off-roading with Jay or going shooting or going to the XRRA championship. Guess she's more right than she thought.
This virus (I'm refusing to call it the flu, my rapid test came back negative) has absolutely turned me into the stereotypical sick male. I'm whiny, demanding, and an all-around pain in the butt. God help the child that does not ask how high to jump when I suddenly need something. After all, I gave them life. The least they can do is bring me Sprite, snot rags, and munchies while I'm lying on my death bed. Right? At least I'm not asking them to massage my feet or give me bed baths. All I want is to be left alone (until I summon them), peace and quiet (like that will ever happen), and a little sympathy. Is that too much to ask?
I'm pretty sure that they're organizing a coup and I'll be left to die by my lonesome, pooled in my own fever sweat, begging until my voice gives out for snot rags or Sprite.