Sick-husband-syndrome

John is ill. He's had some kind of stomach bug now for about 7 days. That's 7 days of lying in bed and moaning (not in a good way either). 7 days of barely eating and 7 days of barely speaking to me or Molly.

In the meantime I've reverted to toddler behaviour: I have great bursts of sympathy followed by much sulking. Molly is confused but I find she asks pertinent questions like 'why won't he take his medicine?' and 'does he need Dr Brown Bear?'.

At least he's accepted (finally) that hot water bottles aren't some evil attempt by me to move him closer to taking (whisper it) "medicine" but might in actual fact help.

How patient am I ? I think tomorrow I may find out. It's Molly's birthday and all the grandparents are here. John is staying in bed and I'm doing battle alone on the most stressful day of the year. Meanwhile i'm off for a sulk.