DH had a tooth out this morning and since then he's donned the dressing gown of doom and has been wallowing in his armchair, cradling his face and talking in the poorly sick voice.
Now I have no doubt it's painful, I once had 4 teeth out in one go, but he sure is milking it. I've been out and got him some tomato soup because 'there's no way he'll be able to eat' the lentil dahl I've cooked for dinner. He's just said that the painkillers he's taken aren't working so I suggested he walk into the kitchen, literally half a dozen steps away from where he's wallowing, to see if there are any others. This was met with a such sigh and a harrumph that you'd think I'd suggested he hike to the moon to get them.
Give me strength to get through the evening without killing him!