Man Cold and Guys Eyes

It's time to yank my cute honey off the pedestal I put him on last Tuesday. Some of you may not know what "Guys Eyes" are, or what a "Man Cold" is. Most of you know exactly what I'm talking about. Trevor has a case of both.

"Guys Eyes" is a male disorder (named in the early 21st century, by psychologist Courtney Andersen) that renders a man completely blind to something right in front of his face. For instance, when we were leaving to go, I asked Trevor to grab Preston's shoes from the basement. Brenda: "They are on the floor in front of the couch." Trevor: "They aren't here!" Brenda: "Yes they are! Look harder!" Trevor: "They aren't here!" I huff downstairs and spot a blanket on the floor in front of the couch. In the case of a man with "Guys Eyes", it's not apparent to them to actually move anything that may be obstructing their view of whatever it is that they are searching for. I removed the blanket and low and behold..."I told you they were here!" Most men will stand, blankly staring around them, without moving anything in their way or moving themselves at all. This is "Guys Eyes". Think of it the next time your honey can't find something in the fridge.

A "Man Cold" is the condition of a man who has a mild to moderate illness and acts like he is going to die. In many cases, the man's wife will have the same illness and go throughout her day without missing a beat. See example below.



All 3 of my children have been sick, Preston and Abby even spiked fevers of 102. Trevor's hasn't been higher than 99.8, yet, I feel as though the kids have been vastly...tougher. This morning, Trev was hit with "Guys Eyes" and a "Man Cold" all at once. I was trying to get the boys ready for school, yelling for them to get dressed, brush teeth, comb hair, while also changing, dressing and doing Abby's hair. Trevor is muddling around in the medicine box and finally asks me where the decongestant is. I tell him it's downstairs in the cabinet with the glasses. He schlumps down...then back up, and declares it's not there. I've hit my limit.

"Trevor, you're just going to have to wait. I'm trying to get everyone ready for school and you'll just have to wait your turn!" Why? Why is it so hard? I run the kids to school and when I come back he's given up on me and taken some Dimatapp instead. Which he claims "Made me almost throw up". I go downstairs and look in the cabinet with the glasses. Can you guess what's in there?

He spends the rest of the day in bed and only comes down when I insist that he watch Carson, so I can take Preston to the doctor. I even took Abby with me. He swears he has strep. I inform him that is highly unlikely, since he's had his tonsils out. He calls me as we are waiting to get an X-Ray of Pres's chest (he has to have one before he sees his cardiologist) and tells me that he needs to go to the doctor. But he doesn't know where to go. He asks me if I have the number of the Instacare he went to once. OH MY OZ! He is utterly helpless. I say in my most patient voice that, no, I don't know the number, why doesn't he look it up. He calls back and says they don't take our insurance. What should he do? I tell him to call his doctor to see if they can fit him in or tell him of a different instacare, but before I can even finish my sentence, he says "I'll just wait until you get home".

I then make the phone calls for him in the car, and two minutes later, I have a new instacare for him to go to. I just don't understand. Why? Why is that so hard?

He's there now and just text messaged me "I'm miserable". I'm not kidding. I love the man, as you all know, but everyone has their flaws! I can vent about this because I'm his wife, right? Now I feel guilt. I'm sure after I've gone on and on about all this he'll end up having pneumonia or something terrible. It would serve me right.

*Editor's note * He has strep throat and had a fever of 102 at the doctors office. He wants me to inform everybody that he called it. You can all say it. I'm a jerk.