Man Sick

     I wanted to write this post for the last week or so, but propriety dictated that I wait until after Father's Day to do so.  And now, the very next day, I would like to talk to you folks about a little something called "Man Sick."  Our germ infested sweet children were recently sick with the Funk.  Not the good, shake your groove thing kind of Funk either.  I'm talking about the sore throat, snotty nose, chest congestion, body aches, upset tummy, wanna punch people in the face kind of Funk.  You would think sickly little kids roaming around your house and moaning for juice like a zombie does for brains would be the worst.  You would be wrong.  The worst possible outcome of any sort of Outbreak situation is for the man of the house to become infected, too.  And, of course, Captain Gingerbeard fell victim to the dreaded Funk.  May God have mercy on our souls.
     When I informed the Captain that he had clearly contracted a serious case of Man Sick, he assumed that I meant that he wasn't sick at all.  That is not the case.  Being Man Sick does not mean that he does not have an actual diagnosable medical condition.  It does, however, mean that what ever ails him is obviously the worst case of a cold, the flu, gas, heartburn, or hemorrhoids that has ever effected a human in the history of the world.  Maybe some form of primate suffered worse than he back in the days of yore, but no modern man has ever been stricken with such a horrific illness.  And he is not afraid to tell the world of his woes.  (Vocalization is one of the hallmark symptoms of Man Sick.)
     Now, I know the Captain is sick.  I know this because the bastard infected me, as well.  (Sharing is caring, after all.)  But, you know what else I know?  I know that during the course of my illness I have also been washing dishes, cooking meals, bathing kids, cleaning the house, and getting up at stupid o'clock every day when the little ones pop out of bed.  And that is the difference between Man Sick and normal sick.  Somebody has to be the grown-up when everyone in the house is ill.  And you can bet your sweet ass it sure isn't going to be the one infected with Man Sick.

P.S. I still love you, Captain Gingerbeard.  But I had to tell my story!

Artist's rendering of Captain Gingerbeard in the throes of Man Sick.