Dear Future Husband,
I was sick last week. Like SICK. Like didn’t-make-it-into-work-A-SINGLE-DAY sick. I’ll spare you the full details, but my Mother suffered from something similar a month or so ago and summed it up nicely on her Facebook page:
“A potent stomach virus married a viral flu bug, and apparently their wedding reception venue is my body. They and all their evil friends have been partying it up pretty big, but Ibuprofen is finally starting to put a damper on their festivities. I’m so grateful for the best husband ever — he has taken such good care of me and been my lifesaver.”
In case you missed it, according to my Mother, HER LIFE WAS SAVED due to the “best husband ever.”
Regardless of the fact that hyperbole obviously runs in the family, she makes a good point: husbands REALLY come in handy when one is sick.
Please note that the aforementioned hyperbole references the statement that her life was saved due to the “best husband ever” and does NOT question the validity of my dad as actually BEING the “best husband ever” – you’ll have to take that one up with her.
Anyway, back to me and my misery. The matrimonial bugs must have known that I am open to marriage because they decided to resume their nuptial celebration in my I-have-no-husband-to-nurse-me-to-health-body. Lucky for you, I survived. And it was ALL thanks to Amazon Prime and the glorious invention of two hour shipping.
Who needs a husband when you can have Gatorade, Sprite, crackers AND toilet paper – !NEVER forget the toilet paper! – delivered STRAIGHT to your front door?!
Granted, had you been around I COULD have saved on the delivery fee. SOOOOOO, what I’m REALLY trying to say is: you now owe me $5. Thanks.
PS. I’m a businesswoman with an MBA, so you know I’ll be expecting a LOT of interest. Pay up!