Oh, the Man Cold. You’ve seen it before — it’s the cold that everyone else in the house has, but it seems to be much worse for him. We joke that it’s always the hubby who seems the sickest (and neediest), but it’s not always the man. Our featured article shares one mom’s story of her own Man Cold Syndrome. And yes, my thoughts on the Man Cold are down below in Just Sayin’.
Our Recipes of the Week are here to help you plan family dinners for busy weeknights and actually enjoy the food!
Hang in there, friends. January is almost over. Spring (and some sunshine) is coming.
I Have The Man Cold And Here Are My Dying Wishes
By Julie Burton
I have a debilitating disease. It’s internal bleeding. No, it’s the return of the bubonic plague.
No, it’s the Zika virus. Right here, in the middle of the United States, a Zika mosquito's saliva is coursing through my body and I am dying. I’m dying from the black death.
I have the man cold.
I’m looking out my window and I see winter brown trying to explode into color. The color is slowly happening. It’s painted on trees and the ground. Even the sky is a brighter shade of blue. The world is about to break out in a love of spring fever.
Can you die of spring fever? Because I think I’m dying from it.
I’m confusing you. Let me explain.
The ones closest to me know this little secret. It's minor, really. You can forget I ever mentioned it. I am a man. Not a man with a penis, but a man with a cold.
I have the man-cold syndrome.
I've heard the jokes. A bunch of girlfriends get together to complain about their husbands. The topic falls on a man getting sick and BOOM — the insults fly and I avoid all eye contact.
“He's so whiny, lazy, and pathetic when he's sick.”
“He's a complete momma's boy and he doesn't even have a fever.”
“He wants us to finish the will. He tells me which friends get his golf clubs and his nice watch.”
“Oh, and that 'in sickness and in health' bullshit. Men are the weaker sex. It’s a cold - HE HAS THE COMMON COLD.”
In my life, my husband is a woman and I am a man. I am the fetal-position, violently ill, man-cold husband without a fever.
I have a cold. I have a bad cold. I have a really, really bad cold and I'm dying from a genetic mutation of the 1918 influenza pandemic that somehow got stored in my genes. My death by cold-with-no-fever has been dragging on for two weeks. My husband has put up with my moaning bullshit for 14 days. Not that kind of moaning.
This time spent on my deathbed got me thinking of a list. Here are my last dying wishes:
I want my husband to teach me how to use his childhood BB gun.
My first thought was to ask Amazon to screw off. But Amazon allows me not to talk to people. One reason I don't like to shop is because I don't like people.
It's not Amazon's fault. I live in Suburbia, Kansas — home of criminals that follow UPS, FedEX, and the USPS trucks to steal packages from front doors. I want to use a BB gun on them. I want to be wheeled out to our front porch, sit, and wait while I spit giant chunks of green phlegm on the ground.
Anyone running away with one of my neighbors' packages gets a BB to the leg or arm or big toe.
I want saline power-sprayed into every crevice of my body.
Water is flowing out of my eyes, my nose, and my mouth. I probably peed the bed last night and I'm sitting in my own urine.
I want all homework to come with a parent-guide.
The hell if I know common core. The hell if I even remember "my way" of math. I tried to learn math as a kid. At best, I peaked as a B-student. Now, I'm just peaking, falling, and it's giving me a headache because I'm 37 now. And why are my kids putting homework on me when I’m dying? Where is my husband?
I want world peace.
Let's just throw it out there and see what happens.
I want my husband to stop rolling his eyes at me every time I tell him my specific request for LUDEN's Wild Cherry Cough drops.
No, I'm not a child. Menthol cough drops don't work and they make me smell like sickness.
To the font maker of the Target's Archer Farms coffee beans — SCREW YOU, KIND SIR.
I can feel caffeine in my soul. I tried to drink a fresh cup of coffee to soothe my sore throat and you know what I felt? I felt hot crap water. I felt decaf. Next time you're at your computer designing coffee bean packaging, try displaying DECAF in extra-large letters with a surgeon general warning symbol on the front.
I want my kids and husband (once he brings me Luden's cough drops) to be happy for the rest of their lives.
If this is what death feels like, just let me waste away like a withering spring flower.
I am in the throws of a cold-with-no-fever. I have the man cold. May I rest in peace.
RECIPES OF THE WEEK:
Spaghetti Puttanesca, Slow Cooker Potato Soup, and Crusted Chicken Romano are a few of our amazing recipes this week. We hope all five are hits with your family. Enjoy!
Garlic Butter Steak Bites
Ingredients:
For the Steak Bites:
1 lb steak (sirloin, ribeye, or tenderloin), cut into bite-sized pieces
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt and pepper, to taste
Optional: 1 tablespoon soy sauce or Worcestershire sauce
For the Rice:
1 cup white rice
2 cups water or chicken broth
1 tablespoon butter (optional)
Pinch of salt
Instructions:
Rinse the rice under cold water until the water runs clear.
In a medium saucepan, combine rice, water (or broth), butter, and salt.
Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer for 15–18 minutes.
Remove from heat and let sit, covered, for 5 minutes. Fluff with a fork.
Season the steak pieces with smoked paprika, garlic powder, salt, and pepper.
Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat.
Add the steak bites in a single layer (avoid overcrowding). Sear for 1–2 minutes per side until nicely browned.
Reduce heat to medium, add butter and minced garlic, and toss to coat the steak bites. Cook for another minute until fragrant.
Optional: Stir in soy sauce or Worcestershire sauce for added flavor.
Serve the steak bites over the warm white rice. Garnish with chopped parsley, green onions, or a sprinkle of red pepper flakes if desired.
Crusted Chicken Romano
Ingredients: