Recently, my husband has been feeling under the weather. Yesterday, he took a sick day from work, spending the bulk of it curled up on the couch, surrounded by tissues. He certainly looked unwell, but to his credit, he didn’t utter a single complaint about his condition. He didn’t even ask me to check if he had a fever or ponder if he had caught something extreme like pneumonia or the plague. Anyone who’s been in a long-term relationship knows this isn’t our first illness rodeo.
I found myself feeling proud of him for not succumbing to his usual hypochondria. Yet, strangely, I felt a nagging irritation creeping up my spine. It all began that morning when I was busy making breakfast for the kids, packing their lunches, cleaning the dishes that had piled up in the sink overnight, and yelling, “Why haven’t you brushed your teeth yet?!” for the umpteenth time. While I was handling my morning chaos, I thought of my husband relaxing upstairs and caught myself thinking, Are you cozy up there, love? Where on earth did that come from?
Later, after dropping off my son at school following a doctor’s visit, I returned home to find my husband still buried under his mountain of blankets, his iPad glowing softly on his face. I couldn’t help but think, Must be NICE. Seriously? Who even thinks that way about someone who’s sick?
I spent the morning at my computer while he shuffled around the house, looking tired and disheveled, heading to the kitchen for more NyQuil or to heat up leftovers. Each time he passed my office, I could see that pleading look in his eyes—the one that silently begs for sympathy. It reminded me of all those times he insisted he had the swine flu, and I couldn’t muster even a hint of compassion.
As the day went on, my feelings of annoyance grew. While folding laundry, he was on the couch watching endless episodes of River Monsters and Ancient Aliens. My frustration bubbled over during dinner prep as I glanced over to see him sprawled out, snoring lightly. I thought, I wonder if he’ll take a sick day when I’m the one feeling unwell so I can enjoy a full day of rest.
That’s when I realized my resentment stemmed from plain old jealousy. I was envious that he could take a sick day while I never seem to get that luxury. It’s a feeling that’s so powerful it was tainting my normally fond thoughts about him. Who’s really sick here?
Yet, he made it to the dinner table that evening, and I was in a better mood by then. The kids had finished their homework, were eating well, and surprisingly not throwing food or arguing. We took turns sharing riddles and jokes, laughing so hard that my youngest almost choked on her dinner.
Toward the end of the meal, my husband placed a hand on my shoulder and cleared his throat. “Kids, listen up. We need to help Mommy more. She does so much for us—more than one person should have to handle.” His words touched me so much, I almost forgot my irritation.
Lately, he’s asked casually if certain chores had been done, and I can sense the underlying question: What on earth do you do all day at home? After nearly 13 years of marriage, I sometimes feel like he truly doesn’t grasp the scope of my daily tasks. But yesterday, on his sick day, he finally saw it.
Whether this newfound understanding will translate into any real acts of acknowledgment remains to be seen. Maybe next time I’m under the weather, I’ll retreat to my bed with a bottle of NyQuil and a good book, tossing my husband the to-do list and saying, “You’ll have to call in, sweetheart!”
Perhaps then, I might muster a bit of sympathy when he’s the one feeling poorly.
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In summary, while it’s easy to feel resentment when our partners seem to get a break, it’s crucial to recognize the hard work we all put in as parents. A little appreciation and understanding can go a long way.
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