My husband is broken.

Poor Cook has been trampled by the flu, which is lasting even longer in his system than it did in mine.* His February hasn't been so great - one weekend of single-parenting, followed by a weekend of lying in bed feeling terrible.** My three-day weekend wasn't the best, but at least I was vertical.


*Dutch processed it twice as fast as I did, and now feels fine. Before I had kids, I thought they were weak and fragile, you know, being the ones who die of flu. Now I know they're actually ridiculously effective at coping with viruses (and other stuff that feels terrible to adults, like falling down, or getting stabbed in the eye with a fork). Whenever the family gets an illness, Dutch breezes through it with a fraction of the pain and duration of the adults' experiences. Skipper doesn't even bother to get it.


**He does get up periodically. I've seen him every once in a while. He staggers into the kitchen looking grey, clammy, and red-eyed, apologizes for being useless, washes dishes until his knees give out, scavenges around for ibuprofen, and then creeps back to bed. It's like having a zombie housekeeper.