i was sick so often as a kid, i am a professional at this. i know exactly which stage the disease is entering now. i will make solemn pronouncements to mr.m about how "the phlegm is now moving downward, into the lungs, i will start coughing tomorrow" and inform him of the best way to sleep whilst unable to breathe. thing is, he refuses to take my professional advice when he's sick. just wants to do it his way, damn cowboy. he can't even blow his nose properly! with him it's all sound and fury, trumpets blowing, and the end result is a crumpled up, slightly damp tissue. amateurs!
i had to drag my broken carcass to the store yesterday, because i had used up 3 boxes of tissues and needed to replenish our stocks. i will buy the cheapest recycled toilet paper, none of that 16-ply, cottony-pillow, angel-lint stuff for my ass. i want to KNOW i've wiped. i want to show my ass who's boss. but when it comes to tissues, bring on the lotion-infused, baby's armpit certified, knitted of moonbeams and magic spiderwebs, because mommy's nose is a fragile thing. especially now.