Wednesday, September 1, 2010

If a sick man moans in an empty kitchen, does anyone hear it?

posted 02/26/08

SH: [pathetic whimper, pathetic moan, repeat for 18 hours] I don’t feel good.

Me: [sympathetically] I know, sweetie.

SH: [various sounds associated with having a lot of congestion, i.e., snot sounds] I’m sorry. Excuse me.

Me: That’s OK. You don’t need to apologize every time. I’m actually tuning it out just fine as long as you don’t talk about it.

SH: But it’s rude.

Me: Don’t mention it. Really.

SH: I should go into the bathroom to make these noises.

Me: I mean it. We don’t need to talk about it.


SH: Would you make me some tea?

Me: Sure.

SH: Would you make me some turkey soup?

Me: Sure.

SH: Imelda never made me soup.

Me: Uh-huh.

SH: She didn’t take care of me when I was sick.

Me: Um-hmm. Should I put peppers in it? I have some I need to use.

SH: Sure. Hey. I didn’t say it. [His annoying Billy Crystal “pepper” imitation that we agreed he would never say again in exchange for my not chewing gum in front of him.]

Me: Referring to it is just as bad as saying it. And you just used your last “But I’m sick! card.

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