This week I have had Man Flu.
Not a trans gender announcement or, in fact, actual flu. Just a heavy cold and sore throat blown up beyond all proportion.
I have quite enjoyed it. I have spent the days dragging my listless body from A to B leaving a trail of tissues behind me.
I have lain on the sofa declaring myself too ill to eat before downing a family sized fruit and nut without removing the wrapper.
I have sneezed all over everything and everyone and had regular, prolonged coughing fits.
When I have managed to bravely string a sentence together it has been uttered entirely through my nasal passages like the chap from the Tunes advert circa 1985.
All strangely satisfying.
The only man flu essential missing has been a willing servant to attend to my every whim. You know, make tea, serve food, make endless sympathetic moue and offer to phone the surgery for an emergency appointment.
My then husband once rang me from his man flu bed pit to ask (in a weak and lamb like quiver) could he please have some hot honey and lemon?
I was in the kitchen at the time and we were talking a two bed cottage not Downton Abbey.
Maybe I should advertise for a man flu partner. Like a dating profile but with added phlegm.
Single Man Flu Female Seeks
Must have endless patience and no other calls on their time
Chicken soup and sweet tea skills essential
Good level of fitness required as many trips up and down stairs involved
Anyone who thinks they have ever been equally unwell need not apply (as it is patently obvious that NO ON has EVER been as ill as this)
What do you think? Any takers?