It's Christmastime - in my nose!
That's right, kiddos, my sinuses are congested and they are oozing out of my nose in festive green and red colors. My wife wants me to go to the doctor, but I'm falling back to the age-old excuse of men everywhere:
Men don't go to the doctor!
Sure, us men generally die at a younger age than our female counterparts. And if you want to be picky about it, we usually die or get really sick from something that a doctor could easily fix.
But that's besides the point.
The point is that if I am to be a man, and if my children are to look up to me as the man in their life, then I must act like all male role models before me. Meaning...
1. I don't ask for directions;
2. I don't put the toilet seat down (or don't put it up if it's already down);
3. I don't clean anything, even myself;
4. I don't do laundry. By the time I run out of clothes, I expect that the intense pressure at the bottom of the gigantic laundry pile just naturally expels any contaminated particles from the bottom-most shirt;
5. I don't go to the doctor!
At this point you might be saying to yourself, "But Bob, you work at a health care company! How can you not care about your health?!"
Touche'. I'll make a deal with you - if you're a doctor or a home health nurse and you want to visit me at work or at my house, then you and I can arrange something. Otherwise...
It's Christmas in June, baby!
The Existential Terror of Battle Royale
5 weeks ago