In the six years that I have been married to my husband, he has maybe stayed home from work once because he was sick. He never, ever takes a day off. If you’re a regular visitor to Fast Eddie’s you will know this because he’s always at the bar working. It’s nice for me because I get the house to myself, I can do what I want and I don’t hear a constant “babe, will you scratch my back?” (Just to set the tone, he’s screaming this from the other room) “Babe, will you pop my toes?” “Babe, will you put me to sleep?” –seriously, this goes on all day and night when he’s home.

So, Sunday he leaves for work about 9a-ish but around 11a I hear someone walking up the steps.  It’s him—he’s sick. I’m in our room—are you ready for this—playing Guitar Hero! I felt like I just got caught doing something. You know, like when your parents caught you on the phone when you’re supposed to be doing homework.    I was a little embarrassed...not like my- face-turns- red-embarrassed but like “hee hee”- embarrassed.  Thank God I had a load of laundry going. I didn’t want him to think that while he’s slaving away at the bar on a Sunday, I’m at home playing Guitar Hero in my pajamas at 11a.  Oh, it’s making me laugh right now just thinking about it. 

He’s still sick. So tonight it’s another round of “Babe will you get me some orange juice?”…”Babe, will you feel my head and see if I have a fever?” “Babe will you put me to sleep?” –that’s my favorite one because he’ll finally SHUT UP!