You make me sick

I feel a little guilty for applying hand sanitizer after you pour my wine.

And I know it's not compassionate to calculate my odds of catching the flu mid-kiss.

But I can't help it. You're sick, and I'm selfish.

Sound familiar?

No matter how much you love somebody, it's not always pleasant to encounter his/her infirm alter ego for the first time.

You vow to be kind, but an unexpected deluge of patient requests -- everything from specialty soup to sinus-friendly lighting -- can be grating.

Not to mention the fact that your honey is contagious. And that's not really sexy.

The anecdote at the beginning of this post is an exaggeration. I love channeling my inner Florence Nightingale and doting on a sick boyfriend. Though I do plan an exit strategy for the moment when "sick" and "grumpy" coincide.

Meanwhile, when I'm sick, I prefer to be completely alone.

Unless my illness includes a phlegm-induced raspy voice. That totally turns guys on.