{Kyle and I, one year ago.}
Today is our one year wedding anniversary (We have a wedding anniversary and a marriage anniversary. They're different.) I thought I'd share what I've learned since being married but honestly? I don't think I've learned much. Our first year has been anything but ordinary so I'm sure that things like, "Do not leave him alone while packing for a cross-continent move because all he will do is play World of Warcraft with his brother" would not help anyone. Instead, I'm going to tell you how he took care of me the first time I got sick.
Well, it wasn't the first time I got sick since we've been married. I did have he 24-hour flu back in January. He stayed away from me. But I can't blame him, that was a nasty bug. (He got it the next day, anyway.)
Friday I was sick. I had taken two doses of DayQuil over the course of the day and when the second one didn't work, I stopped taking it. I was freezing so I got a hot bath. When I got out, it felt like my skin was on fire, but I didn't have a fever.
Kyle got home from work early and made chicken parmesan for dinner. "Mmm, that sounds good," I said. It did sound good because I was hungry. By the time it was done, though, I started feeling worse. I only ate a few bites of the pasta and a little piece of garlic bread. I felt so bad.
I took my blanket, water bottle, NyQuil, tissues, and cell phone upstairs and got in bed. I was so cold I couldn't unravel myself from the fetal position. I needed the thermometer because I was sure I had a fever.
"Kyle," I yelled, so pathetically.
He didn't hear me, I knew he had his headphones on. So I texted him and asked him to bring me the thermometer and a cold cloth. "Ok," he texted back.
I heard him go downstairs and rummage around in the kitchen. He ran back up the stairs, flung open the bedroom door, and handed me the thermometer.
"I don't know what this 'cold cloth' is," he said (complete with air quotes.)
"It's a cloth that is cold because you wet it."
"Oh. I thought you meant some kind of special cloth you use when you're sick."
I told him one of the little blue dishcloths (we don't own washcloths, we don't use them) would be perfect.
He ran back down the stairs, then back up. He had a big, red dish towel in his hand.
"This?!"
"Um, no. But that's ok, it will work," I said.
So he wet it and put it on my forehead. And proceeded to laugh and laugh because apparently having a big red towel on your face is funny.
Thank you, honey.
This has been a story about how it really is the thought that counts.
Well, it wasn't the first time I got sick since we've been married. I did have he 24-hour flu back in January. He stayed away from me. But I can't blame him, that was a nasty bug. (He got it the next day, anyway.)
Friday I was sick. I had taken two doses of DayQuil over the course of the day and when the second one didn't work, I stopped taking it. I was freezing so I got a hot bath. When I got out, it felt like my skin was on fire, but I didn't have a fever.
Kyle got home from work early and made chicken parmesan for dinner. "Mmm, that sounds good," I said. It did sound good because I was hungry. By the time it was done, though, I started feeling worse. I only ate a few bites of the pasta and a little piece of garlic bread. I felt so bad.
I took my blanket, water bottle, NyQuil, tissues, and cell phone upstairs and got in bed. I was so cold I couldn't unravel myself from the fetal position. I needed the thermometer because I was sure I had a fever.
"Kyle," I yelled, so pathetically.
He didn't hear me, I knew he had his headphones on. So I texted him and asked him to bring me the thermometer and a cold cloth. "Ok," he texted back.
I heard him go downstairs and rummage around in the kitchen. He ran back up the stairs, flung open the bedroom door, and handed me the thermometer.
"I don't know what this 'cold cloth' is," he said (complete with air quotes.)
"It's a cloth that is cold because you wet it."
"Oh. I thought you meant some kind of special cloth you use when you're sick."
I told him one of the little blue dishcloths (we don't own washcloths, we don't use them) would be perfect.
He ran back down the stairs, then back up. He had a big, red dish towel in his hand.
"This?!"
"Um, no. But that's ok, it will work," I said.
So he wet it and put it on my forehead. And proceeded to laugh and laugh because apparently having a big red towel on your face is funny.
Thank you, honey.
This has been a story about how it really is the thought that counts.
2 comments:
Awwww I like how sweet the story is ,it's so men to be clueless sometimes especially in caring or doing something for their girls but it's really cute.
Happy anniversary!
I'm just now catching up on your blog (I've been awful at blog reading lately! Gah!) and this post sincerely delighted me this morning. You two are so genuine and adorable. I love it!
It's funny how clueless guys are, sometimes. I think that's one of those things that you learn when you're married at this age, especially. I remember how when Jay and I were first married, he thought anything could be cured with Advil or Theraflu.
I'd have a stomach-ache and he'd be all, "Do you want some Advil?" And I'm all, "REALLY." He would also think that you could take tums for a headache, I think. Kind of a mess, that boy.
And I like how your husband put air-quotes around "cold cloth". Hahaha! Love it.
Happy belated anniversary!
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