There's a difference in man-sick & lady-sick, and mostly it's about getting pestered~update with Author Suzie Tullett

~UPDATE: Author Suzie Tullett was kind enough to chime in with a hilarious spin to let me know that I’m not the only woman who suffers the side effects of ManFlu . . . check in Friday for her installment of Friend Friday! See you then!

If I had a bath a coupla days ago, I might put up with bein pestered...

I HEAR MAN-PARTS come in sets of three. If Chap likes it that way, he better keep his away for another day or two, because I’ve finally snapped.

I’ve been sick for three days, and of course, Chap’s been on my nerves for three days, but I been hangin in there, until yesterday, when he came home and started pesterin me for “a little lovin.”

Seriously? Have you even seen me, let alone smelled me?

I haven’t had a bath in three days. And I have the disposition of a skillet full of rattlesnakes.

I certainly wouldn’t do me.

I’ve had so much to do, because I’ve got a book due soon, and columns to get out, and a presentation to get done, and harvests are due, and animals to care for, and I don’t have time to be sick, or frankly, for the nervous breakdown for which I so richly deserve.

When men get sick, the whole world grinds to a screeching halt as they whine and waller about how sick they are.

Not so with women.

We use our fever-floating sick bed as Command Central of the bridge of the Star Ship Enterprise, running kid appointments, ranch schedules and writing books and columns right through our Nyquil-induced, runny nosed haze, limping to the bathroom when necessary, powered only on chicken broth, Gatorade G2 and Vitamin C.

And it certainly doesn’t make for an amorous woman.

So when I finally got enough energy to take a bath yesterday,  all I could think of was, Dear God, please don’t let me slip and bump my head and drown ’cause the ARCs of Redneckedness haven’t been revised and the book critics scheduled to read were bound to think I’d done myself in deep despair because I’d finally lost it.

But that would never happen because I have some really great writer buddies who are not only my first readers but also my good friends, who would come over before it got anywhere near that bad and say, “Hey, let’s get you back on your meds. And let’s take a look at that manuscript. And while we’re doing that, why don’t you go take a bath?”

Because see, real friends would never, ever pester you while you’re sick.