Words can not adequately express how I feel about seeing you again right now. (No words suitable for public consumption, anyway.) I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you made your appearance while I am here caring for a large tribe of little people without my wife - you've always had impeccable timing like that.
I apologize for not recognizing you immediately upon your arrival yesterday - I hope you were not offended that I mistook you for a bad case of indigestion from the midnight quesadilla I whipped up. You didn't seem too upset when you woke me up at 2am after wrapping me up in sweat-soaked sheets, though, so I guess you're ok with this.
Thank you for the reprieve you gave me today during the day while we went about our business - nice of you to sit idly by while I entertained all the guests and kept the children happy. Seriously, that was really nice of you.
I'm not sure where you had been all day, but you sure returned all hot and bothered. Excuuuuuse me for ignoring you and not medicating until after the kids were all in bed. You should really lighten up.
So when you planned your visit - did you know that I would only have liquid chloroquine on hand in a child's dose so that I have to drink 4 ounces of that disgusting concoction? Hmmmm, something tells me that you did.
Unfortunately for you, you can't stay long as I have many things to do and need to be better by the time my Tara comes back. You are a crappy companion and she's not the most compassionate person when it comes to a sick husband. ;)
(That wink is not for you, Malaria.)
I hope you enjoy the baby bottle of syrup I just swallowed - I know I did not. But I will rest well knowing that you're getting your eviction notice...right up until I wake up soaked again and having dreams of things like homicide and other disturbing images...so nice of you to bring that lovely slide show with you whenever you visit.
For your information - I didn't have enough options readily available for measuring by the ounce - just one liquid measuring cup and a whole bunch of baby bottles.
If I knew where Tara's shirt was, I would try it on for you right now...since I do not I'll just give you the gist of what it says:
Malaria, you suck.
You don't have to go home but you can't stay here.
Sincerely,
Troy R. Livesay
Edit-
Troy is delirious (clearly) and he *meant* to say that he has the most AMAZINGLY COMPASSIONATE wife on the face of this earth. Forgive him (the way I will) - chloroquine does crazy things to a person. ~tara in TX
