Man sick.

You know what that means, right? It's what we women call men who act like they're dying when they just have a little cold. They lay around on the couch and whimper and beg for sips of tea.

I have a confession to make. Bill is not the person in this house who gets man sick. When he's sick, he piles up in the recliner with his laptop and proceeds to work from home all day long. I offer medicine and tea and he usually refuses. He's pretty good at being sick.

Me, on the other hand, well, I'm the one who gets man sick. I hate being sick, so I get whiny. I curl up on the couch with books and tea and a blankie and try to get Bill to do all the work around here.

I have a cold right now and I'm moping around this morning whining to myself about how much my head hurts and my sinuses are on fire and whah whah whah whah whah.

Yep. The woman of our house is secretly the man as evidenced by the fact that I get man sick.