Sick as the proverbial dog

Yup, that's me today. I've got such a sore throat that I can't get my voice past it. When I do, it nearly kills me. I'm feverish and headachey, but have to be up. Car headlight to replace, washing to do, house to see (will we get it?), adamant kid to care for (if I let him starve, will he make his own damn breakfast?).

Instead, what I'd really like is to be comforted and molly-coddled, cared for and made to feel like it's OK to spend the day in bed, resting and recovering. To have someone bring me things to make me better, put cold cloths on my forehead and soothe me to sleep. I can't remember the last time I got to do that.