Preferably before I throttle my husband.
He's come home from work today, all ashen and melodramatic, vocabulary reduced to "cup of tea milk two sugars"... and vanished off to bed.
Meanwhile guess who is charged with moving all our worldly goods to new house down the street a box at a time? Muggins - just shifted 10 boxes of books downstairs - and he's slept through it alllllll.
Incidentally - I had this bug a few days ago, felt pants, went to bed early a couple of nights but managed thirty nursery kids and packing boxes through it all - he's just a wimp! And his bloody mother encourages it!
Science must find a cure and save all our relationships before we kill the male of the species in frustration. If he thinks I'm cooking dinner tonight as well he's got another thing coming and I'll stick the hedgehog bread somewhere the sun don't shine!
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AIBU?
To think we really need to find a cure for man flu?
18 replies
emptyshell · 25/11/2010 13:17
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