sniff
I have a cold.
I skinned my leg rock-climbing.
I can’t sleep.
I’m not used to being sick and not living at home. Can someone make me some soup? Rub my back? Sing me a song?
Chop, chop, chop. Simmer. Stir. Knead. Rub. Pat. 3 verses of “Stairway to Heaven.” Feel better? I don’t, I’m tired after being a good samaritan. Hope you fell better soon. Maybe you can catch a couple of reruns of “Leave it to Beaver”.
<flings bowl of soup at sandalfeet>
la la la la
Now Eat!
{{{{{{{{{C’mon lets give her a hug}}}}}}}}}}
What’s in it for me?
<Brings teddy bear>
There, I’ve done all I know how to do aside from administer enough vicoden to make you not care if your ass is on fire.
-Satisfaction for a job well done?
-Helping out a fellow human being in time of need?
-Loose change from the top of the dresser, and a coupla’ Haagen-Daz from the freezer?
I’m in.
Okay, first, we’re gonna change you from sandalfeet to fuzzybunnyslipperfeet, cos that’s what people get from me when they have a cold. That, chicken soup, and coloring books. And hey, if you ask nice, sure, a backrub too. Good enough?
Yay! thanks guys! but now my tum-tum hurts from so much soup. But my feet are nice and warm, thanks ArrMatey!
Can someone get me some tissues? my bed is nice and warm, and I dont wanna get up.
Don’t do that. Use a damned kleenex.
So take some drugs and get some rest.
Clean and dress the wound. It will heal.
Stay awake. Eventually, you will.
Suck it up and deal with it. Soup is not that difficult to make.
Jeeze, Fuji, someone’s in a bad mood. do you need to be babyed too?
Scooch on over, let me lay down there and read Emily Dickinson to you. 
oh yay! cuddles! I’ll try not to sneeze on you!
Can we skip Emily’s “I Heard a Fly Buzz When I Died”? Way too depressing, and perhaps prophetic, for this situation.