On Sunday night, as I was nursing a teething baby while puked my guts up, I was thinking very uncharitable thoughts about my husband. Inbetween heaving sessions, I would glower and whisper between gritted teeth, “I hope you get this. And when you do, I will kill you with kindness. So much so, you will realize what a jerk you’ve been and feel incredible remorse on top of feeling wretched.
Lo and behold, he is now in bed, huddled under blankets and nibbling weakly on a piece of toast. I believe my plan was a success as he just apologized for acting like such a rotten tomato and promised to do better next time.
While I have hope that he’ll be more helpful next time I’m sick, I don’t see the pitiful persona when sick being banished any time soon. That I can deal with, so long as more compassion is directed towards me when I’m ill.