I loves me my Sneezey
I was at the beach, enjoying a fruity drink and laughing with friends over my massive lottery winnings when suddenly “BluEH-HA!” The sound was stunning.
Instantly the Caribbean shoreline was gone; my friends had been replaced by total darkness. There was a snurgely sound. A huffy breathing. My eyes shot open and I was facing my sleeping husband.
“BLU-EH-HA!” He sneezed. In my face, in his sleep. The entire bed shook. Admittedly it wasn’t the sexiest thing to have awakened me. Or him, I imagine. At the time I felt sad for him, for his oncoming cold and the discomfort that riled his sleep at 2:00 in the morning.
By 6:00 a.m., my sadness for him had been jostled by my own self pity. Why were my eyes so sore and itchy? Why couldn’t I breathe out of my nose anymore? “Good morning, Sneezey” I squawked at my husband.
“Good morning, Selma.” I stared at him, not quite comprehending. “You sound like Marge Simpson’s sister,” he said.
The way I was feeling, I probably looked like her too.
I stumbled out of bed and into the shower, the white sandy beach of my dreams somehow lodged between my ears. “How did you sleep?” I shouted to my husband as I let the hot water pound against my neck.
“BluEHhA!” was his explosive sneezing response.
Eventually I found my way out of the shower and into warm clothes, we downed some Advil and together roused the children from their slumber. Two had just gotten over fevers. One was just coming down with a cough. All of them needed breakfast and permission slips signed and lunches made and clean clothes and rides to school and… Surprise! The world hadn’t slowed down, even though we had. Life was still happening while we were busy making plans, as they say.
I went downstairs and helped the multitudes collect their belongings. The kids swirled around me, opening the fridge and closing cabinets and pouring cereal. I turned and saw my darling Sneezey sitting on the staircase, snuffling as he put on his business socks. We smiled.
I took a sip of the delicious coffee he’d made for us that morning, closed my eyes, breathed in deeply (through my dry and cracked mouth), and sighed contentedly. It’s times like these that I raise my heart to the heavens and thank my lucky stars that I have such an ardent partner in crime. Even with his sneezing and my coughing and his fever and my spleen sitting on the floor in the corner, getting through days like this – even when we’re both sick—is so much easier and more enjoyable than going it alone.
Because heed my words, you parents to be, teens wanting babies and anyone else who glamorizes life with kids: Yes, having children is awesome. And never ending. And even when you feel like a squashed toad, kids still have needs. I promise you, it’s a whole lot nicer to have a solid, if wheezing, partner with whom to share all the joys, big and small.
