*ALERT* Man-flu pandemic

Oh Man-flu...... God must be a man to inflict such hideous torture on us mere women. Even us with our innate strength, cannot deal with this pandemic sweeping our nation, Rolling eyes is as much as we can do.

Reality is like this- picture one miserable man laying awkwardly on couch smelling like Oscar the grouch at his worst, moaning, sniffling, and talking non-stop about their illness [drawing parallels to the one sided conversations MIL has about her best friend's neighbours dog-walkers brother's prostate issues]
You feign interest- albeit briefly [and, I'm asking, what mother has time to really nod appropriately at the right times to ANY conversation for more than 47 seconds?], as kids don't wait for real life to intervene in their day, so you turn your back on dying partner to attend to day to day life like all women have to come rain or shine or flu of your own......
You fantasize about their impending death [because, according to them, the GP is a moron, and should have hospitalized them- because DEATH IS IMMINENT!]
You think thoughts to yourself about how if partner were a horse, even a THOROUGH BRED, they would surely have been shot by now, and you can empathize with cavewomen with their big clubs they stole off the men in the middle of the night- oh yes, a club WOULD come in handy right now......

The fantasy goes like this- every man affected by this hideous, flesh rotting pandemic is marched off to a concentration camp, [in the middle of some country you have no idea where is- like Slovakia or somewhere, so if LSH manages to smuggle a mobile and texts you to come get him- you can't .... mooohhoooooo haaaarrrr harrrrrr]..... I digress....... they are marched off, single file, Nazi-style and when they reach their meagre accomodation, they are greeted by one big, fat German nurse, who barks in a Russian accent [not quite sure why, but this is my story, 'k?] "YOU VILL STOP ZEE VHINING, YOUZ MIZRABULL BABEEZ"
They all then start to cry and sniffle like newborns, and they long for their caring women back home who bring them cups of teas, even if they are just pretending to care, it's better than this torture...

Ohhhhh, I could go on and on with this fantasy....... ;)
It is moments like this my 7 year itch is flaring up like a bad case of genital herpes, and I picture how the grass is greener, yada yada yada
I imagine getting whisked away by some Italian [or, insert French, Irish, Swiss, German, whatever floats ya boat ;)] lothario to some exotic location, magically, my cling-ons have disappeared - isn't it amazing how in fantasies your rug-rats fail to exist!!!???- and you sip red wine [Guinness, Champagne, Absynthe, you decide] and you throw your head back in laughter at everything said lothario says....... and you walk hand in hand off into the sunset, make love til dawn, and evereything is perfect, as in this story, lotharios don't get the man-flu pandemic, noooooo..... that would be too cruel.......

Yeah...... *sigh*...... off now to have my morning cuppa [see, I AM dreaming] and go upstairs to poke the male with the end of my broomstick [did I say that?] to see if he grunts. Fingers crossed he doesn't...... hehehehehhehehehehehehehheheheehe [insert the very evilest of evil laughs]