Remember how I complained about what a big baby my husband is when he’s sick?  Well, guess what?  Those words are coming back to taunt me.  I’ve caught a wretched cold and am miserable.  I have places to go, people to meet, and all my plans are crumbling at my feet.  I slept nine hours Sunday night and took a three-hour nap Monday afternoon.  I had chicken noodle soup for lunch and again for dinner.  I woke up feeling crummy again today.  No fair.  That sound you hear is me whining and stamping my foot.  You know, I just might be a cry baby, too.