My throat itched, my body ached, my arm hairs hurt, and my head pounded. It felt like the beginnings of the flu. Ugh.
I lay in bed, buried beneath a mountain of blankets as Ben googled the warning signs of deadly diseases. He yelled my name every ten seconds and raced across the apartment in fear that my symptoms resembled cholera, Scarlet Fever, or some strange disease contracted through the dirty hands of public school children.
I lay in bed, buried beneath a mountain of blankets as Ben googled the warning signs of deadly diseases. He yelled my name every ten seconds and raced across the apartment in fear that my symptoms resembled cholera, Scarlet Fever, or some strange disease contracted through the dirty hands of public school children.
(He exaggerates situations… just a teeny bit. but I secretly love it.)
He fretted and fussed over me, brought me Crystal Light lemonade and repeatedly tucked the blanket under my feet. I told him that eased the pain.
I whimpered that my mom and dad used to check the back of my throat with a flashlight to rule out strep. Ben grabbed the next best light source available – the TV remote control. He pressed the remote, lit up the buttons, and had me say “ah”. Somehow, he hypothesized, the red glow from the buttons would illuminate any white patches in my throat.
I definitely married the best.
What other man could demonstrate such empathy, impromptu preparedness, and MacGyver-esque thinking? No one that I know.
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