In sickness and in health

My boys' got a cold and he's being all pathetic about it. What it means is that I have to go out for beer/wine/port because he feels too bad to go out himself; it also means that he's even less able than usual, to answer simple questions like 'Do you want to go out on Saturday?' or 'What shall I bring back for your dinner?'. The women's mags all tell me that men are like this, although I don't know about anyone but him (my brother was demanding all the time when we lived at home, and I didn't notice it getting any worse when he was sick).

I had the afternoon off today, to make up for having to work this Saturday; I took the opportunity to go into town and pick up the evening jacket which was being fitted for me. To tell the truth, the jacket may not have been altered at all. The staff had clustered around me at the time, pinched bits of fabric and pinned them, they charged me eighty dollars for the labour and I had to wait a week and a half before I could bring the jacket home. But, now that I'd tried it on, I don't know whether it fits any better than it did before. So to make up for the disconcerting idea that I may have been scammed, I bought a black lace sleeveless tanktop with red underlayer to go with it. And some perfectly fitting jeans (except they're too long of course). And some foundation and concealer.

When I got home and told the sick boy I'd been shopping, the poor guy thought I'd been looking for Interview with a Vampire on DVD (which is on his list of must-haves). I momentarily felt bad that all my retail therapy this afternoon had been completely selfish, but moments don't last long.