I’m sick. For the past three days I’ve been sick. So sick that yesterday I asked my husband to stab me in the brains. He did not oblige.
He’s a busy dude and is very thoughtful about contributing to the household food-making, but if we’re being honest, I do most of it. In my sickness and his busyness nothing beyond oatmeal and smoothies has been made for the last few days. So, one night he ordered pizza. And I didn’t eat any because I just don’t get that hungry when I’m sick. Then yesterday for dinner pizza leftovers were on the menu. There were two pieces left and I gobbled mine down quite fast. I whined to him that I needed more food and without one second thought he handed me that half a slice he had left. I got teary. I just thought it so sweet that he wanted to do anything to ease just a bit of my discomfort that he would literally give up his meal to me.
Maybe it’s the sick, or maybe that is true love.