I knew something was wrong the moment she entered the room, a sullen and withdrawn look on her face. “I don’t feel very well,” my wife declared.
The kids and I stared at her, then at each other, in silent shock. She walked gingerly up the stairs to our bedroom, took some Nyquil, and was out of action for the next 24 hours.
And just like that, the delicate equilibrium that keeps our household in balance began to shift, and we felt the earth slowly tilt on its axis with every passing minute. You can imagine our terror.
Before you judge, please understand how unusual this was for my family. I’ve known my wife for more than 25 years, and I truly can’t recall the last time she was sick before this recent debacle. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her sneeze, bruise or bleed before, leaving open the distinct possibility that she’s not human but actually a cyborg sent from the future to yell at me for forgetting to empty the dishwasher.
But with this illness disproving the “Wifenator” theory, I searched for other ideas that could explain her incredible run of health.
And then, the truth hit me, like a value pack of Robitussin.
She has been sick before, and she will be again, many times. But as a strong and productive woman, she declines to show it. Whatever tends to ail her, my wife just shrugs it off, powers down a little extra Vitamin C, and goes about her business. Without a complaint aired or a slowdown in her productivity, you’d never know that she wasn’t feeling well.
Unlike me.
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