I have been on and off sick for the past few months. I have a really healthy week, and then bam, I am sick again. I have different symptoms each time, so it makes absolutely no sense. Plus I had a flu shot. Any needle that breaches my skin should cover me for every illness I am exposed to for at least 4 months, 8 days, 3 hours, 17 minutes, and 55.7342111 seconds. Let me tell you, being sick is getting so annoying. It reaches the pinnacle of annoyingness when the husband starts badgering me about going to see a doctor. He just doesn’t understand that being in a highly populated region you have to preplan your illnesses several months in advance in order to get in to see a doctor. Plus they have scales there. Evil soul-sucking scales.
Really this blog isn’t about me whining or trying to garner any kind of sympathy. Although I am not opposed to sympathy… What this blog is supposed to be about is the realization that when my mother explained the birds and the bees to me, all of her charts and diagrams left out the most important part: Men and women are different. I am not talking “Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus” different. I am talking “Men Are Not From the Same Galaxy, and I Highly Doubt They Are From the Same Species” different. I don’t need proof of alien life forms. Men are proof enough. Area 51 isn’t some secret government alien testing facility in the middle of the desert. It is a secret government giant man-cave where the aliens, aka men, go to hang out.
Don’t believe me? Picture this: Me, curled up in a fetal position in bed with a temperature and a killer headache. My sons are going to go get Taco Bell…alien food, need I say more? I request, by text so there can be no misunderstanding, applesauce and ready-made Jello. They arrive home with no applesauce, powdered Jello mix, and beer. Dudes, really? Freaky Aliens.
Husband takes pity on me, or he just wants to get away from my whimpering. He goes to the store and comes home with applesauce, refrigerated Jello, and refrigerated pudding. Thought of pudding makes me want to heave, but Jello and applesauce? Oh yeah. He doesn’t bring a spoon. After all, aliens probably don’t need spoons to consume Jello and applesauce. I text Alien#2 because he is generally more reliable than the other two. Alien#2 not only brought a spoon, but napkins too. He must be studying up on humans and the tools they use in their culture.
Next morning I crawl out of bed and drag myself downstairs. Leaning against the wall for support as I descend the stairs, I can honestly say for once I smell worse than the dog. I glance in the dining room. Applesauce, refrigerated Jello and refrigerated pudding are sitting out on the dining room table. Throw pudding and Jello in the garbage because a little ingestion of Salmonella is not going to make me feel better at this point. Mention to husband later in the day that I had to throw out Jello and pudding. His response, “But the applesauce didn’t need to be refrigerated, why should the others?” Let’s see. Applesauce came from a non-refrigerated shelf. Jello and pudding came from refrigerated section. Jello and pudding are clearly labeled “Keep Refrigerated”. Yes, I know the containers look similar. Humans can be so confusing to men. Freaky Alien.
***To all my male Spark friends, you know this is all said in jest. Really it doesn’t need to be an agenda item at your next Area 51 club meeting…***
Until next time. Be Safe. Be Strong. Be Healthy. Keep Sparking!