if it isn't love

I spent the entirety of this weekend either in bed or on the couch. I hate being sick. I also hate being sick when I'm not allowed to take any medicine that could possibly make me feel better or allow me to breath easier.

Saturday night, at the height of my whiney/neediness, Somebody came into the bedroom with me at 8pm to pray and tuck me in (because he's nice like that) because, dang, I'd been awake for almost eight hours and all that lying around had exhausted me. In my VapoRub stupor (side note: did you know that the jar says to consult my physician if I'm pregnant before I use VapoRub? Why? Do babies not like the smell?) I suggested to Somebody that what might help me fall asleep right away would be for him to sing me a lullaby. Because, you know, he's NEVER done that before. Or wanted to do that. Or wanted to be asked to do that. He, of course, declined that lovely suggestion. I figured there had to be some Chinese lullaby that he needed to practice singing, and that there was no time like the present, but he stubbornly refused to acknowledge that there ever was a lullaby sung in the Chinese language. Not even one. So I busted out the only song I can sing in Chinese, which is "We Are a Happy Family" and he patiently listened to my blatant and raspy combining of the phrases I knew in Chinese with supplemental English on the parts where I didn't know the Chinese words.

After I was done singing, we were both quiet for a moment before he said, "Okay, I have a song for you." And then he patted my head and sang, "You're beautiful, no matter what they say."