After a week-and-a-half of sniffling and feeling generally miserable thanks to the flu, I thought it was time I distracted myself with a spot o' blogging. While I am much better, thanks for asking, I am feeling a bit dull. So pardon me if the wit is not biting enough and I seem soppy in this particular entry.
Well the last few days may not be what you call exciting, they were enlightening in a way. For starters I was pleasantly surprised to discover a sensitive side to the husband which has been very well hidden (of the buried in the backyard with a tree growing on the spot types.) till some days back.
The outbreak of the flu in the Uppal-Kallarackal household meant a retirement to bed on a more or less day-long basis. With no mom to fuss over me and no dad to needlessly worry, I was feeling the pain acutely. To think of all the cooking to be done and clothes to be washed and house to be cleaned, the ground couldn't get deeper for me to bury my head in. As I lay mulling these unsavoury thoughts in my head stuffed with phlegm, and shedding copious tears for the good old carefree days when your problems were your mom's, a silent metamorphosis of sorts was taking place in the house. Read on to discover.
I felt a gentle nudging trying to shake me up from a despondency and cough syrup (almost) overdose induced sleep. Upon opening my rheumy eyes, I see an apron adorned husband holding a breakfast tray in his hand. "Oh crap, I am going to die," I think. Surely this is worse than even swine flu, because I don't remember hallucination being one of the symptoms.
Then I try calming down. "must be the effects of the cough syrup... let me sleep if off," I try convincing myself as I turn over. However, the nudging resumes and as I reopen my eyes I see that the apparition persists and is now wearing a worried look on his face.
Apparently (later I realise actually) it IS INDEED the husband standing there with a carefully laden breakfast tray.
HA! Who would have thought!
Wondering if there is catch, I chew (might I add with great difficulty, not because of the quality of food, which was par excellence even to my fevered state) and move around the house a bit, I almost faint. Now now, don't worry, it wasn't the fever, in case you are worried. The house was actually tidy. The man who used to step out of his clothes and leave them to pick up after themselves had tidied up the house!
“Either I am already dead or my husband has been possessed!”
“Typical man,” I tell myself, “He had to go invite foreign spirits in when I am sick,” I curse as I try to remember the local priest’s phone number.
“Sweetie, I will be back early in the evening. So don’t worry about anything,” I am told as gets ready for work. “He sounds the same…,” I think.
A very very worried me gets crawls into bed exhausted by the turn of events when I see him pick up that dreaded deodorant of his. Now I am all for nice smelling men and women, but I take exception to the kind that mistakes the said perfumed aerosols for room freshners. Unfortunately for me, I am married to the variety. Most of our mornings are spent debating the pros and cons of unchecked spraying and I sit prepared for another one. Only to stare at V’s retreating back as he takes the bottle out of the room to spray himself. HA, again!
Having gone through these 600-odd words you must have pretty much figured out that this time V has earned himself the right to be lauded! Not that I ever believed I had married a monster, maybe an occasional ogre, yes, my first post marriage seasonal flu helped me realise my ogre is a Shrek! I have been fed, pampered, had my aching limbs massaged, bucked up, indulged despite tight deadlines, hectic schedules and screaming bosses at work.
Now there maybe some of you who know where I have embellished facts, but the truth remains that my man came through at a time when I was miserable (I am worse than a colicky baby when I am sick) and I was reminded once more why I fell in love with him… Because he is a good man and that when the need truly rises, he has donned that shining armour and rescued me. V, we may have had our disagreements and I may scream at you because of the dishes, and you may storm out of the house because of the mess the house is in and I may sass about it in the blog, but know this that I love you and that I know I made the right choice.
P.S: If you continue being the angel you have been, I will wax eloquent about you in every blog! So pl pl pl pick up after yourself on a regular basis and not just when I am near death! Love ya!