Plank Story: What Ails Me

I often hear people say that men act like babies when they are sick.  That is not the case in our house.  Matt could be violently ill, he will try to push through and then he wants to be left alone to feel miserable in private.  I will push through too, but when I cave to the illness I want to be rubbed, and have homemade soup at exactly the right temperature fed to me, and a bell I can ring when I want to be told that it is unlikely I’ll die from whatever currently ails me. 

My poor mother.  I used to ask her that too when I was sick.  “Do you think I’m going to die?”  She never did.  Matt never does.