Hubby made me sick, or maybe it is the fact that everyone at work is coughing and hacking on me. My genes of steel have finally given in and I am going to crawl under my covers and die. If I survive my Nyquill-cold-induced daze, I will be back with a vengence, but until then, me and my wads of tissues are going to go die in bed.
See you around. If I make it.
Hubby (proud of himself): See! I made you sick, now you can stay home and call in sick to work!
Me (said with a stuffy nose): Yea, thanks A LOT. Who wants to call in sick on their sick days?