The sympathetic nurse

There's a reason why I did not choose to become a nurse.

If you've read here for long, you know I'm the "Suck-it-up-and-deal-with-it" person.

Which makes those I love really appreciate having me for a nurse.

For example:

Child: "Mom, I threw up 4 times last night."

Me: "I hope you made it to the bathroom, cause I'm not cleaning it up."

Child: "Mom, I think I have a temperature."

Me: "Well, take some Tylenol, go to bed, what do you want me to do?"

Husband: "Honey, I've had the runs all night."

Me: "Great, just great. Does that mean that I have to clean that toilet again?"

See, sympathetic. That's me.

Andy was sick a week ago. Now, he has the rash from hell. I get to help him rub cream all over his body twice a day.

Kat was home sick yesterday. I got to help her take a bath last night and tuck her in bed. Thank god she knows how to throw up IN the toilet. (Andy missed.)

Kev was sick over the weekend. I got to sleep on the couch.

My toilets have been cleaned more in the past week than they have in the past year.

Yep, there's a good reason why I'm not a nurse.