Sick

Colds and sickness always seem to come at the wrong time for me.  I guess it is fair to ask if there is ever a "good" time to be sick...And there's not.

But sometimes, after the kids have just been too messy and too loud (or at least more than you could stand that day), and then grades had to be posted for the first report card, and then you remember you never packed cross country practice clothes, and then you get to practice and the wind whips through your ears and into your brain, and the nose won't stop running but it's raw from too many Kleenex tissues, and then you think you will never, ever be warm again....

Sometimes you get home, your husband tells you to sit down, and he brings you dinner that he's made (spinach and cheese stuffed chicken-I don't know where that came from).  He's finishing two loads of laundry, and the freshest out of the dryer, the warmest shirt, he puts you in and then tucks you under a blanket while you watch New Girl and The Mindy Project and he folds clothes.

I don't know if there's a "good" time to be sick, but I'd say "after you're married to a good man" is as good as it's ever going to get.  And I'm certainly grateful.