The Sweet Husband

The SH and the Homemade Soup

this may actually be a conversation between me and the recently departed, that part is still under consideration.

The sweet husband got his flu shot yesterday, and last night he ran a temp and felt like crap, they told him that he might.

This morning, while he is sleeping I get up and go to the store to get the stuff to make him home made soup.

I wake him and say I made you some soup, and give him a nice bowl of soup and some hot cornbread to go with it.

SH says where did this come from?

I reply, hmmm, from the kitchen

sh: There's a stove in there?

me: Yep, it's still there.

SH: And it works and everything?

me: Yep, but I think it may be breaking as you speak.

SH: This sure is hot.

me: I don't like cold food, I didn't realize you did.

SH: I don't particularly like cold food, but I did like my tongue. It had skin on it and everything.

me: well YUCK, did you say skim?

SH: that is just nasty.

me: Well if you think it's nasty, don't eat it.

sh: Looking puzzled, not the soup, my tongue.

me: Your tongue is nasty? YUCK again then.

sh: You are confusing me, don't cook anymore, I can't take it.

Ok I guess I was wrong, if I don't have to cook anymore, I'm going to keep him alive awhile longer.