Hiya, blogger friends!
I knew there would come a time that I'd begin to feel fidgety, sitting up in bed. And I knew that would be a good thing. It would mean that I was feeling better. FINALLY... that feeling came upon me last night, when my husband opened up his underwear drawer (of all things).
The poor man gave me his most pitiful, doe-eyed look, and showed me that he could not, in fact, change out of his sweaty underwear because there WERE no clean pairs in his underwear drawer. Uhm, excuse me dear.... but this wretched, horrible, crud had me by the throat all week long, and it was all I could do to keep from breathing steadily (without letting out a horrible, gut-wrenching series of coughs, wheezes, and chortles!).
Actually, he was very sweet about the whole thing. He said he'd go throw a wash in after he finished cooking dinner (which he'd been very good about all week). It was then that I had an epiphany... I realized I felt well enough to go sort through the laundry (that had been steadily breeding like rabbits in my hamper all week long), and chug a load of whites down into the basement.
Husband had no idea what I was up to (he was playing some sort of computer game on here, while waiting for the pasta water to boil), and actually got irritated with me when he found out what I'd done. He's been so concerned about my health all week... calling to see how I was doing, if I was eating, if there was anything he could bring home for me, and telling me (quite sternly) NOT to do anything around the house. I think he was worried that I was going to kick the bucket, or something. I'll admit... for awhile there.... so did I!
Anyway, he's got squeaky clean undies for today. And I made my bed this morning, AND got dressed, AND straightened up. I'm about to put another load of laundry in the wash, too.
I'm certainly glad THAT'S over with!