Zane got a nasty stomach bug Friday night. The first of our marriage.
I think I handled all the grossness pretty well, if I do say so myself. Except for the fact that I spent most of the weekend feeling sorry for myself.
Granted, I wasn't the one sleeping on the bathroom floor, so like any normal human being, I should of been grateful. Except I was bored out of my mind.
I couldn't just leave Zane home alone on the bathroom floor. What are spouses for if not to wait on your hand and foot, and medicate you, when sick? Thus, I sat at home, and watched a looooooot of television. Which led to the extreme boredom, and the sulking.
(Being able to twist any situation till it becomes about me is one of the few talents I possess. Something I inherited from both of my grandmothers I'm sure.)
I mean, at least if I was the sick one my mind would be preoccupied with my own suffering, and I would lose a couple LB's, right?
So there it is. The cat's out of the bag. I'm a horrible person.
On the bright side, where I rarely find myself, we were able to decorate for Christmas before all the vomiting began.
Our first tree.