I have a migraine, I've barely been able to get out of bed today. I went waddling running to the bathroom to be sick earlier and didn't make it in time, but luckily I managed to grab a towel on my way and threw up onto that. Tears.
'D'H gets home from work (knowing I'm ill) went to pick up the sicky towel from the bathroom floor, I stopped him in his tracks and told him I'd sort it out. His reply... 'You've been sick? What...You're actually that ill?' With 
look on his face! More tears.
He's also text and asked if we needed anything from the supermarket on his way home. I asked for a pack of those disgusting, orange, individually wrapped cheese slices, a bottle of Dr Pepper and some paracetamol. (Yes I know, but I'm pregnant and poorly!) He's arrived home with a block of blue cheese which I can't fucking eat no Dr Pepper, and Ibuprofen which I can't fucking take
So I've sent him back out. He's in a huff, and I'm laid in bed crying AGAIN.
I feel like an arse!