"I hope you take care of me when I'm old."
These were the words my husband uttered when he walked through the front door last Thursday. Really? I was thinking the same thing.
"I don't feel good."
This is followed by a series of low moans, and groans. Ah, yet another revelation, and with such vivid detail. What happened now? Did he fall and hurt his back again?
"I'm think I'm sick."
At this point, I check his temperature. He has a high fever. I tell my husband to take Tylenol, change his clothes, lie down and rest. I find him minutes later on the bed, fully clothed, under a heavy blanket. Definitely not the way to bring down a fever. He knows this but when he's sick, he's like a sick puppy. I scold him; change his clothes, and remove the heavy blanket, and replace it with a lighter one. He began to shiver, and grabbed the heavy blanket to cover himself.
"Why are you bothering me? Just leave me alone!"
Huh? Didn't you want me to take care of you?
Oh, he's so stubborn. Arggh!
I pick my battles. I know he's not feeling well. I leave him in peace.
A few hours later, his fever breaks and he's in a better mood. My husband says, "You'll take care of me when I'm old, right?" I don't give him an answer.
The truth is, I try to be a good wife, and mother. I love my husband dearly, and he knows I'm there for him if he needs me.
But he's not exactly old yet.