My Beloved and Her Head Cold (Long Obs, F)

[GhostLily342]

I had the week off from work this week, so my wife and I decided to hit the road and visit our families for a few days in the city. “Un”fortunately, the night before we were supposed to leave, my wife came down with one heck of a head cold. I came home from work that afternoon to find her sprawled out on the couch with a roll of toilet paper, and used wads of it scattering the floor around her. Still, she insisted that she would be well enough to travel the next day.

I figured that this ob would best be written as a series of “vignettes,” since my baby’s rotten cold resulted in an almost continuous series of obs with great accompanying dialogue (I love cold-related dialogue. If it’s not your thing, this post may be underwhelming).

Day One: my wife picked me up from work in the afternoon before heading out of town, so she wound up driving the first leg of the trip. Not long after we were on the road, she stifled two sneezes, started sniffling desperately, and I attempted to come to the rescue with tissues.

“HhhhH-EHmmmpff….HEH-MMmpff! *snnnnff* Ugh, gross…”

“Bless you baby! You ok?”

“Yeah, *snnnnfff* ugh, my nose…”

“You need a tissue?”

“*snnff* Got it covered.”

At this point, she reached into the door compartment on her left and removed a wallet-sized package of Kleenex. Quite skillfully, she removed a tissue with one hand, kept the other hand on the wheel, and blew her nose several times with her typical trumpet-like honk.

“SHHHHRRRRRNNK…SHHRRRRNK! *cough* God, I mbust be disgusting to you right now.”

“Nonsense. You’re sick. Stop apologizing for it.”

About halfway through the drive, we stopped for gas, and I took over driving. My wife forgot to grab her pack of Kleenex out of the door compartment, and we weren’t back on the road for long before the sniffling resumed, and she asked for them.

“*snnff* Hey honey?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you hand me those tissues?”

“Oh, yeah.”

And I did. And she blew.

Once the tissues were on her side of the car, this process largely continued ad infinitum. Sniffles. Tissue. Blow. Allow some 5-10 minutes to elapse. Repeat. Not that I minded, really…

Before we had reached our destination, my sickly sweetheart had blown her way through that entire package of Kleenex. When her nose started running yet again, she began re-re-re-reusing old tissues until they disintegrated. After that stopped working, she apparently thought her only recourse would be to sniffle and/or use her sleeve. I then directed her to my jacket in the back seat.

“*snnff* Ohh, my nose…”

“You need a tissue?”

“Yeah, but *snnrff* mine are all used up.”

“Nope. Get my jacket back there. There should be another pack in the breast pocket. And I threw in another three packs in my shaving kit.”

“Oh my gosh, you are awesome.”

Thus, my darling’s runny nose was stemmed for the time being. But then, this was only day one.

Day Two: By the next day, the wife’s cold had elevated from moderate annoyance status to full-blown nasal chaos.

Her voice was nearly gone, and the poor thing’s nose was not just running, but dripping. Clear, watery substances were brimming on and spilling over the reddening rims of her nostrils at every second, and out of sheer necessity she was blowing, dabbing, and wiping with anything she could get her hands on: tissues, napkins, paper towels, toilet paper, washcloths, you name it.

Despite this, her disposition remained surprisingly upbeat. When my mother-in-law entered and saw us for the first time that morning, the exchange went something like this:

“K, honey, how you feelin’? How’s your cold?”

“Uhmb, pretty bad. I’m not sneezing as much, and not as congested as yesterday, but it’s just at that point where everything’s coming out of my nose.”

The two of them then started gearing up for a day of pedicures and shopping. Before they left, I handed off to my wife two of the remaining four wallet packs of Kleenex.

When I heard that they had returned to the house, I went downstairs to find my wife lying face-up on the guest bed, groaning stuffily, with a nose even redder than I thought possible. Without sitting up, and after pinching the end of her nose with two fingers to remove the moisture, she relayed to me her slight afternoon mishaps.

“My nose kinda cleared up while we were gettig our feet done, but then it starded up again at the mball. I used up all of your tissues, and then I hadda ask Mom for some. I’b sorry baby…”

“Still nothing to be sorry about, love.”

I proceeded to lay down next to her on the bed, where we called it a night rather early.

Day Three: The abundance of extra sleep seemed to do a lot of good for my ailing bride. The following day, her voice had mostly returned, and her nose wasn’t as treasonous as it had been the day before.

That morning we were going to meet her parents for church, and while driving I listened as my doll related to me her latest plan.

“Okay, I think I’ve got a pretty good routine for cold-proofing myself. Alka-Seltzer, nose spray, cough drops, keep tissues on hand.

Sound good?”

“Yup, whatever works.”

Church business proceeded as usual, with nothing terribly memorable until the sermon started. Everyone was quiet and paying attention to the pastor when I felt a gentle tugging on my coat sleeve. I turned to my wife, and then I failed at decoding simple sign language.

*wife points to, taps on the end of her nose*

“Huh?”

“Tissue.”

Feeling a bit stupid, I reached into my coat pocket and handed her the next-to-last pack of Kleenex. Throughout the rest of the service, she removed several tissues only to wipe or dab at her nose. At the time I figured why this was: had she blown her nose in an echo chamber like that sanctuary, she might have been kicked out for the irreverence of it.

Once we got back to the car, she immediately pulled two tissues from the pack, and gave in to her inhibitions.

“SHHHHHRRRRRRNK….SHHRNK-SHHHRRRNK!! Ohhh man. I’ve been waiting so long to do that!”

Ah-men.

Day Four: On the final day of our trip, we decided to explore the downtown area of the city a bit before meeting up with another couple for dinner that evening.

Explore is what we did. We visited shops, eateries, and a museum, and were able to walk to most of these places.

My wife’s nose, however, was not content to simply walk.

While it is true that by this point, her cold had progressed past the drippy phase, the runny phase was taking its time. We stopped

walking every 10-15 minutes for an exchange like this to occur:

“Oops, hold on a sec, gotta blow my nose.”

“It’s fine.”

“SHHHHHRRNK! SHHRRNK!”

We enjoyed a late lunch and a few drinks while shooting some pool at a little dive bar in the city. Toward the end of our second game of pool, my wife hit a sawhorse in the road.

“Aw, I’m all out of tissues…”

At this she grabbed some bar napkins and shoved them in her purse, but didn’t wind up using any, which was really for the best, considering how red and sore her nose was by this point.

Before heading over to our friends’ for dinner, we stopped by the grocery store for some wine to take over. While passing through the paper goods aisle, I thought I’d ask my doll if something should be done about the tissue situation.

“Hey, while we’re here, do you wanna grab some more tissues?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll just get a little pack, here, lemme see…Ah-ha! See? This one has 70 tissues instead of just 10.”

As we headed toward the checkout lanes, my wife handed me her package of tissues.

“Now hurry up and let’s check out, so I can wipe my nose.”

She opened this new pack of tissues on our way to the car, and she did just wipe her nose, rather than blowing it again.

Fast forward a bit to after dinner at the friends’ house (if the dialogue sounds a bit goofy from this point on, it’s probably because we all were a bit tipsy). My girl’s nose started acting up yet again, so she got up from the table where we were playing our card game, and retrieved the aforementioned tissues from her purse.

As she blew her nose for the thousandth time that day, our hostess looked somewhat taken aback; not because she was offended by the nose blowing, but because she was under the impression that she had left a box of tissues out on the counter.

“Oh hey, you don’t have to do that, we have Kleenex there on the counter.”

“SHHHRNK! Huh? Where?”

“*looks around* Oh, oh my gosh! I’m sorry! We usually have a box of Kleenex out, hang on a sec.”

The hostess then ran back to her and the hosts’ bedroom, came back with a box of Kleenex, and set it on the counter.

As the card game (and the drinking) went on, eventually another nose blow was in order. My wife retrieved another few tissues from her purse again, so I reminded her of our hostess’ hospitality.

“Um, honey, she set out a whole box of tissues just for you.”

“SHRRRRRNK! Oh, *snrf* right!”

At this she reached over and pulled a tissue from the box on the counter, and blew her nose yet again.

Anyway, that’s the best of the obs that I can recall from this week. My beloved has actually passed her cold on to me now, so I’ll probably have some self-obs to report soon. Hope you all enjoyed this!

[Arty]

This is too cute.

[luvsfemalehonks]

those are days to never forget! i need someone like that in my life...badly

[honkmaster]

Great obs, thank you for sharing it.

[blowhonkblow]

evan

Absolutely rocketed into my top 10 favorites. Just can't get enough of the church scene. I personally love it when a person with a cold infested nose points and makes reference to being stuffed up and such. Had an old GF who used to do this...I'd ask how she was doing and she'd tap her left nostril twice with her index finger and say..."Stuffed up" or "Biserable"... then proceed to blow like a foghorn. Thanks for sharing the intimate details of what sounds like quite a week of activity. I can only imagine how sore and chapped her nose must be at this point. My best and my thanks!

BHB