or something like that.

Last Wednesday night I had the best sex of my life...officially, don't know what it was about it--maybe the semi-drunkeness, or the fact that we both tasted like hot wings...but it was Grrrreeeat...at least for me. And because the best experience of my life must be tempered with horrible moments, at approximately 2:45am I woke up with a choking cough that racked my body and made me unable to sleep for the rest of the night. Please note: John is able to roll over and sleep through someone hacking her entire lung up (that was me, if you didn't know).

During my reign as Queen of the Sick, John took excellent care of me. Thursday, I was just semi-zombiefied so I managed on my own. Friday I went to watch some girls play a little Flag Football and supported a good cause, unfortunately, I should've been supporting my cause for healthiness. I came home and shivered, shook and just whined a lot. John answered my whines by handing me the Tivo remote and running out to get me Wendy's...because greasy food cures all that ails you my friends. And then...then he left me blissfully alone to watch Dateline NBC catch sexual predators...with junk food for my brain and body I drifted blissfully to sleep on the couch (hopped up on tons o' vitamin C and Nyquil) while John painted the basement. (Truly, I'm not sure how I managed to get the well trained husband, but he rocks!)

Saturday was the highlight of my weekend because I hardly remember it due to various reasons. First, in the morning I dragged my body behind me and went to the grocery store because I wanted to make breakfast (feed a cold people, feed a cold). I ran into my mom's friends and they then told my mom that my "husband was sending me out in the cold and sick to buy him breakfast foods" ha ha...I love it when rumors get spread about him! He gets all defensive and hangs his cute little head and says, "Your mom thinks I'm a scumbag, doesn't she?" which isn't the case but it's just too much fun to solemnly nod to him whenever he asks. This is the night that I also attempted to drink...but it didn't really work. I claim it was all the Dayquil I was swilling, John claims I just had a lot to drink before we left the house (He's says tomato, I say I'm right). Either way, I think it was the first time I've been in bed by 8 o'clock on a Saturday in my life.


Notice there hasn't been any mention of any sex...you know for curative purposes of bronchitis type symptoms? Well no, there was no sex, why?? Because for some reason my friend/Aunt Flo/the crimson tide/the curse/lady trouble whatever in the hell you want to call it decided to make an encore presentation--this time in a way in which I wished I had purchased stock in Tampax. It made me very sad, because when you're feeling crummy...sex is the best cure, better than all the Nyquil in all the land...but cramps made me feel less than amorous and because I couldn't breathe through my nose John also suffered a bit because I couldn't perform my other favorite wifely duties.

Monday we took off together for recuperation purposes...it really became errand day. I have to say that we were ultra productive, but again my mom said to him, "She should really be recovering, you know?" Again, he just can't win!!! he he he...

Tomorrow: The origin of the term forking
When John slipped and called me Porkin
And possibly a recap of what occurs at Wing Night