I recently read an article entitled the “The Seven Ages of the Married Cold,” this article revealed the reactions of a husband to his wife’s colds during their first seven years of marriage:
First Year: “Sugar dumpling, I’m really worried about my baby girl. You’ve got a bad sniffle and there’s no telling about these things with all this strep going around. I’m putting you in the hospital this afternoon for a general checkup and a good rest. I know the food’s lousy, but I’ll be bringing your meals in from Rossini’s. I’ve already got it all arranged with the charge nurse.”
Second Year: “Listen darling, I don’t like the sound of that cough. I’ve called Doc Miller and asked him to rush over here. Now you go to bed like a good girl, I will take care of cleaning the house.”
Third Year: “Maybe you’d better lie down, honey; nothing like a little rest when you feel lousy. I’ll bring you something. Have you got any canned soup?”
Fourth Year: “Now look dear, be sensible. After you’ve fed the kids, washed the dishes, and finished the floors, you’d better lie down.”
Fifth year: “Why don’t take a couple of aspirin?”
Sixth year: “I wish you would just gargle something instead of sitting around all evening barking like a seal.”
Seventh year: “For Pete’s sake, stop sneezing! Are you trying to give me pneumonia?”