For the last week (actually 12 days) I've been trying to get over a terrible cold. I've been suffering through it silently, dosing up on various cold medicines and praying to the Gods to kill me in my sleep.

It's tough to be a wife and mother when all I want to do is crawl under the covers and sleep for days. The housework has piled up. I have dishes in the sink, my son's toys are scattered all over the living room and I haven't had the energy to vacuum.

And trying to keep a certain 3-year-old occupied, in between blowing my nose and coughing up a lung, is pure Hell. Yes. With a capital 'H'. Add to that a meltdown of a preschooler and I nearly jumped from the second floor window.

My husband isn't much help when I'm sick. He tries to act as though he wants to take care of me, all the while staying as far from me as possible so that he doesn't catch what I've got. But as for helping with the housework? Only in my dreams.

That isn't to say that he doesn't do his fair share. He does, for the most part. But ever since I became a work-at-home-mom, the bulk of the chores fall on my shoulders. And then when I get sick he doesn't step in to help.

I can't figure out why. When he's sick, he acts like a big baby and I do the best I can to make things comfy for him. I take Dawson out of the house so he can rest and get over his sickness. But when I'm the one feeling miserable he tells me to suck it up.

Just the other day, as I was laying on the couch, sneezing and coughing, he had the audacity to ask me, "So, umm, are you going to get to these dishes?"

"Geez, I'm dying over here and that's all you can think about?" I asked. "I'll do them tomorrow when I feel better."

"What time tomorrow?" he snickered.

Now, I know he was trying to be funny. He's a comical guy. Joking is second nature for him. But he chose the wrong time to be Robin Williams. I flipped out.

"How can you ask me what time, when I've been sick for a week and a half and barely functioning? You stupid jerk!" I screamed. "What ever happened to that 'in sickness and in health' part of this marriage?"

I overreacted. I know that. It's just that there seems to be a double standard here.

When men get sick, they revert back to childhood and want to be taken care of. As a mother, and someone who nurtures, I don't mind taking care of my husband. However, when women get sick, all they want is someone to help them, but men act like the tough football coach and tell us to "Tough it out."

Do I have the right to be mad? Or am I just making a mountain out of a molehill?