I woke up the other morning to discover that the husband didn’t feel good at all. So I asked why he hadn’t woken me up in the night–he had barely slept at all–to tell me he was sick.
“I did,” he said. “Twice.”
I refused to believe him. He promises it was true, and that each time I woke up, I was very sympathetic and concerned. So concerned that I did nothing and didn’t remember it in the morning.
He also said I told him this: “Shut it. I’ve felt sick to my stomach and tired for at least eight weeks.”
I think he made that last part up.
Advertisement
