So, I’ve spent the last few days exhausted, coughing, trying not to swallow because my throat is sore, and laughing my ass off. That’s right, laughing. Because when I’m really sick, I am HILARIOUS. At least I think I’m hilarious. Because I am. And It. Is. Awesome. Quinten, my husband, on the other hand, does not think I’m nearly as funny when I’m sick as I think I am. He keeps telling me that I am not hilarious. He is so wrong.
But, I said I would put it to a poll. I am going to put here a transcript of my twitter conversation with my husband over the last two days and let you, faithful readers, tell me
Let’s start with the fact that, on Monday night, when I was lying on the couch drinking tea and trying not to fall asleep in front of How I Met Your Mother, I decided I wanted comfort food. And not just any comfort food. I wanted a donut. I wanted a donut a lot. So, I started pestering Quinten to go get me one. Because I was sick and he was not and the able-bodied should always go get the donuts for the not-able-bodied. After he put me off a number of times, I took my requests public:
Me: Tonight, I am ending every sentence with “Now get me a donut!” I can’t tell if my husband is amused or annoyed.Quinten: A little of column A and a little of column B.
Then Quinten, after getting a little bit fed up with my persistent donut-whine, offered me one of the cupcakes we had leftover from Iris’s birthday party. I ate it. But I was not mollified. As we were lying in bed right next to each other later that night, I tweeted again:
Me: A cupcake is not a donut. And you did not even leave the house to get it for me. So it does not count.Me: And, little does Quinten know, I’d really rather have chocolate ice cream. So, even if he does get off his ass to get me a donut, he’s screwed.
Quinten: But in the end, I win because more donut for me.
Me: WHAT DONUT???? WHERE??? YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T GET ANY!!!!
And then I laughed like a loon for about fifteen minutes because I am so hilarious.
Quinten: Oh please sweet 8 pound, 9 ounce baby Jesus, make sure the Nyquil my wife took takes effect soon.
Then, after I fell asleep, he did this:
Quinten: I’m sorry twitter. My wife is sick and very tired. She thinks she’s hilarious.
In the morning, I responded:
Me: I AM hilarious! I even made myself laugh. That’s how hilarious I am!Quinten: I’m thinking still really sick.
Quinten is so mean to me. Because, clearly, I am amazingly hilarious. You think so, don’t you? Right??