Man Illness

Himself has kept himself home from work this morning because he was up half the night retching away. (As I lay in bed wide awake listening to him heave up his innards, I wondered if the toilet was clean, because I know there's nothing worse than barfing into a dirty toilet.  I didn't hear him cleaning it so it couldn't have  been that bad.)

He says he feels like crap and has kept to his bed all morning.  He did manage to drag his arse downstairs to make some toast and has now returned to bed.

But the moaning.  Oh my God, the moaning.  Every time he rolls over or moves, he lets out this little whimper.  You'd think he was dying of ebola or the Black Death the way he carries on.  Suffer in silence, please, like the right of us do.

And the look of misery on his face.  I feel like smacking it right off.  Like no one else, ever has been sick like this.

I'm not sure I want to be around if he gets ill with something worth moaning about.  He'll be intolerable.