He wasn’t feeling well before he went to San Diego for the FEMA Urban Search and Rescue class. He’d been feverish. He had a bug bite that he insisted was merely a mosquito bite on his shoulder. He had a headache that refused to abate. I suggested he stay home and get tested for Lyme’s Disease. But he grunted dismissively, and went anyways. Why? Because he’s stubborn.
He came home from San Diego, and felt even worse. He sported a temperature of 102 that made his teeth chatter, and his handsome square jaw clench. The bug bite site had grown uglier, and his headache had blossomed into all-over body aches. He insisted he would be fine with some Motrin. I suggested he go to the doctor and get tested for Lyme’s Disease. He grunted dismissively, because he’s stubborn.
He awoke groggily the next morning feeling like death, warmed over. I put my hands on my ample hips, stomped my size 11wide foot, and insisted that he go to Urgent Care. He was too weak to refuse. Guess what the doctor there diagnosed? That’s right, Lyme Disease. My Captain grunted, and said, “Of course. It all makes sense.”
I resisted the urge to smack his handsome face, and punch him on his bug bite.
He was given antibiotics and was told to rest. So he went to Adam and Shana’s Damascus Day cook out, sat in his lawn chair, and felt miserable, while everyone else around him laughed and played, and Critter taunted a head trauma in an oversized inflated play ball.
He did call off of work the next day, but then he forced his poor shivering body out of bed and went to a 3 hour construction meeting about rural water supply that was not even in his station’s first due, that he was therefore NOT even responsible for, and he didn’t even get paid for it…why? Because he “didn’t want to let anyone down”, and, well, because he’s stubborn.
The next day he lay in bed for a little while. But then I made the mistake of going to the grocery store, while Critter and his best friend, Richard, played on a slip and slide at The Little Cottage. When I came home, Critter and Richard were nowhere to be found, and My Captain was out in the heat wrestling with the Slip and Slide, to clean it and put it away. Why couldn’t he wait for me and the boys to do it? He was worried about the grass dying, and well, he’s stubborn.
So now I’m sitting on him. No, seriously, all glorious, flabalanchousness of the me that is Mama Boe is holding him down. And do you know what he is doing while he’s flat on his back in bed? He’s got his laptop out, and is working on a line-up lecture for tomorrow….TOMORROW….because he is planning on going back to work tomorrow.
Because he is the most stubborn mule I’ve ever met.
No, scratch that. He is stubborn-er than a mule. MORE stubborner-er than a mule.
And I love him dearly.
Lord, I hope the guys go easy on him tomorrow.