Imagine you're sick as a dog. Sprawled on the couch in your warmest jammies wrapped in blankets, a mountain of used tissues forming on the floor and miles of cold meds; otc or otherwise littering the coffee table. "Ugh! You moan in defeat as you try to sit up, but are hit with a coughing fit. Just then, your darling Ringo brings you a tray laden with plain toast and a bowl of piping hot chicken soup. "Here you be, my sick Lovely." Says he as he sets it down and hands you your inhaler. Pneumonia sucks. Once you calm down and see his worry stricken face looking down at you, you smile. "Thank you, Baby. You really are the best." With that, he kisses your forehead; plops down by you and helps feed you because you're so weak. With his love to help, you'll heal up just fine.
-Fin
