The husband hurt his back yesterday digging in the allotments. It wasn’t even our allotment he was digging. So when I started writing my blogpost this evening he jokingly suggested I talk about man flu and the like. He’s gonna regret it.
I’m sitting in the living room at the computer wearing my nightie as I feed the toddler before bedtime and I may as well be comfortable. He has reminded me that there is a severe lack of tea (better finish this post quickly so) and he has had to answer the door twice this evening due to me not wearing day clothes.
The best medicine for a sore back according to
the oracle my husband is to lie in bed and watch TV, closely followed by cups of tea on tap and bikkies. I’m not convinced. He has refused all pain relief since it happened yesterday. Yes he thinks he’s well hard, even when he is wincing from the pain. An anti-inflammatory would help but nope, he won’t take any tablets whatsoever. I do have a supply of difene suppositories that may put him out of his misery but he never seems to sleep soundly enough. I wonder why?
I should point out that both callers to the door this evening were for him and he has agreed to go digging in the estate on Saturday. I expect him to bound out of bed tomorrow morning, get down on one knee and offer a modest proposal….
Of a kiss in exchange for putting his socks on.
The 4 year old fell on Saturday when he was out and about. He grazed his knee. This resulted in loads of drama even though he was grand. He required lots of plasters, assistance getting dressed and undressed, and wanted to know if he had to go to the hospital.
For a grazed knee?
I think he’s getting tips from someone.
I’m praying he never catches Man Flu.
PS Hubby (my biggest critic) has now declared this the worst blogpost ever. Success! I can only go upwards from here.