Man Cold: The Next Pandemic

This is no laughing matter. Despite the efforts of wives and significant female others across this country to sweep a growing health problem under the rug, I am not afraid to speak out on behalf of my gender.

The warnings were there

Man Cold is here, it is serious, and it needs to be stopped. Research funding needs to be reallocated before it’s too late. We already know from The Walking Dead that the CDC has no answer for the coming zombie apocalypse. (That show should serve as an instructional video and not just as a cautionary tale.) But at least we know Man Cold is here, now. So it’s time to stop ignoring it. It’s time to stop kidding ourselves. It’s time to act.

Take me, for example. I have been sick since Wednesday… last Wednesday for crying out loud. I’ve taken a sick day from work, spent virtually an entire weekend in my pajamas, have been in bed by 8:30 most nights, drugged myself with NyQuill, Tylenol Cold, Afrin, and Ibuprofen. I’m drinking plenty of fluids. I haven’t blogged in a week. (Yet despite my weakened condition, I’ve managed to fire off this little ditty for you. You’re welcome.) I haven’t worked out or run in almost two weeks. I had to call out sick on a day I had a job interview for Godsakes. What the hell is wrong with me?

This is me, sick and angry, making my family a
delicious frittata while they lounge on the couch

And I’m still waking up every morning with a peach pit-sized ball of mucus in my throat. I still sound like my grandma Sylvia, with her hacking nicotine cough. And another thing: tea? Soothes the sore throat, sure. But it also clears up the internal plumbing a lot faster and more effectively than coffee, if you know what I mean. This would be welcome news if I were in fact having issues in that department. So add that symptom to the sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, and stuffy head. (No fever.)

I must say, Mucinex has been a Godsend. It has even inspired a new term for my Man Cold vocabulary: “Gary Mucey.” That’s who I sound like when I try to speak before the Mucinex has kicked in:

An amusing side effect.
Unlike what I get with the tea.

To dismiss or laugh off the Man Cold Pandemic would be a huge mistake and have serious repercussions for our economy. Heck, for our society. You can’t have babies without men, ladies… yet. So we can’t keep populating the world and blogging about it unless we eradicate this horrible disease.

My therapy puppy

You know who’s taking this seriously? Luna, my loyal and loving little dog. Staying by my side as I lay on the couch. Joining me when I go upstairs to the bedroom for a nap. And Peanut too. Taking a break from playing Candy Land with My Director - who laughs at me - to gently kiss me on my forehead as I nap. She even pretended to play as me, green gingerbread man and all, as I slept. And every night when we put her to sleep, she tells me, “I hope you feel better, daddy.” Such hope. Such awareness. Such concern.

We need more women like Peanut in this world. Women who will see that men are not overreacting when we’re sick. We really feel this badly. And don’t give me this nonsense about how men are such babies when they're sick, proving  they could never handle childbirth if they had to. You ladies get an epidural. What do we get? Over-the-counter drugs that simply treat the symptoms, not the debilitating virus that fuels them.

Well, it’s time. Time to move toward a viable treatment. A vaccine. A cure. Are we being babies? Maybe. But keep this up, and there won’t be any babies anymore.

Cure Man Cold. Our future depends on it. Until then, I'm gonna take another nap.

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The Streak is Over

"It behooves a father to be blameless if he expects his child to be." ~Homer

I finally did it. I finally said it. I said something that I had so prided myself on not saying that I even posted a running total of the number of days that I had not said it on this very blog site.

Then, in an instant, the streak ended. After 1,434 days... the peanut's entire life... I finally said it on a Wednesday night during dinner.

"Because I said so."

The ultimate cop out. The laziest, not-a-real-reason explanation a parent can give to a child. As soon as I said it, I knew it. I caught myself... and said, "I can't believe I just said that."

Why did I say it? Just like I explained before... I was being lazy. I said it without thinking. It happened so fast. I wish I could take it back.

There we were, at the dinner table. The nightly negotiation with the peanut had begun. She wanted to know how many more green beans she had to eat before she could be finished. I said five. She said three. I said four. She said two. You have to love her negotiating style. We settled on three. Little does my daughter know that I always put more on her plate than I expect or want her to eat.

I want her to eat five whole green beans. I put seven on her plate. She eats two. Then she asks, "how many more?" And our tango ensues...

So after we settle on a number for green beans, we move on to dessert negotiations. Namely, what she will be allowed to have for dessert, assuming she eats her green beans. Tonight, she asks for cookies, or candy. Not knowing how much fruit she ate that day, and assuming how many sugary snacks she was given, I told her she can have yogurt or applesauce for dessert. If she finished her green beans.

And here is where I slipped. "Why, daddy?" And I thought about it, and said, "Because you probably had enough sweets today." I knew that was too vague of a response for her. She kept pressing... she just wanted a reason.

Now throw in that 1) I was still getting over being sick, 2) I was tired from a long day of work while still feeling sick, 3) I had prepared a delicious meal (chicken marsala thank you very much) that my wife, who was now sick beacuse of me, could enjoy, and you get "Because I said so."

Ugh. The worst. What kind of mail-it-in parent says "because I said so?" Me. That's who. This once. Hopefully this last time.

What I meant to say was, "I bought you ice cream yesterday because you felt sick (I got her sick too) and I know you had some after lunch today." But I didn't. Instead, I mailed it in.

My wife wanted to give me a break because of my physical and mental state at the time... but that's the thing. You can't take a break. There is no break from parenting... or, at least, from good parenting.

So reset the ticker... we're starting another streak. And I'm bringing my "A" game. Again.

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