Today I had to do something that I never do willingly. I gave up, threw in the towel, surrendered, waved the white flag… It wasn’t the end of two long weeks with the lils at home that did me in, because they have actually been pretty great. It wasn’t the weather, though it has been pretty hot, even for Bangalore. It wasn’t even the fact that neither our oven nor our water purifier have been fixed, despite daily calls and promises of the imminent arrival of a technician or two. We aren’t doing much baking, but that safe, clean water thing? It’s pretty important to me. The thing that did me in was a cold. A really bad, miserable cold.

I rarely used to get sick, and when I did it was not that bad. This has changed since we had the lils, I get sick more often, but I generally don’t wallow. I am usually chasing after the lils, so I play the martyr and push through. This has made be become somewhat unsympathetic when those around me are feeling ill. By somewhat unsympathetic I mean to say that the phrase “suck it up, buttercup” is often uttered when Willy is sick. He was sick this week, and I was my typical supportive and loving self. I am sure he appreciated it. Now I feel that I should have been a little more concerned, and maybe cut him some slack.

This morning basically saw me moping around the house, doing the bare minimum required to keep the lils safe and watered. Willy basically dropped everything and came home when I made vague references to my inability to care for our children in an email I sent. He blew off work, sent me to bed, took care of the lils, fed me when I whined and never once complained or pointed out what a wuss I was. As a result I am feeling much better, and a wee bit guilty. I hope that I will remember this guilt the next time that he is sick with a mancold, but the reality is I’m just as likely to blame him for making me sick, and hold that against him!