Gramps has contracted a wretched head cold from me, but his has turned into a “Man Cold”, which as everyone knows, is much worse than, say, a Lady Cold.
No, I’m just kidding. Gramps is pretty tough. He usually doesn’t even know he’s sick until we have a conversation like this:
Gramps: (comes in from feeding the cows, rolling his shoulders around and wincing)
Danni: Are your shoulders hurting?
Gramps: Not really.
Danni: Why are you doing that then?
Gramps: Just stiff.
Danni: You got a headache?
Gramps: (has a visible inward thought, searching around inside his skull for a headache. doesn’t find one) Not really.
Danni: That’s how my disease started.
Gramps: Well, I’m not sick like you are.
Danni: Why are you snotting and coughing, then?
Gramps: (has another visible internal thought) Um… (sniffs and coughs) Allergies, I think.
Danni: Is your throat sore?
Gramps: (swallows experimentally) Well, it feels like it could get scratchy. Maybe. Not really.
Danni: Are you chilling? Got a fever?
Gramps: (feels his forehead) I don’t think so.
Danni: Oh, for pity’s sake. You can’t tell if you’ve got a fever by feeling your own head.
Gramps: Really…? (still surprised after me telling him that for forty years)
A few days of misery later, he will finally admit he might have a man cold.
Do you know anyone who has Man Colds, and if so, do you rub their head and say, “Poor little bunny?”
Until next time, God bless all y’all and keep you from Man and Lady Colds. Enjoy Celtic Thunder doing this outstanding version of Amazing Grace.
*These artists don’t necessarily endorse my blog I just love ‘em.