He thinks my sense of humor quit. I think it went to take a shower, a daily living activity I hadn't yet gotten to yesterday. He said, she said. So some harsh words came out at the end of the day, despite my best intentions to be a sainted caregiver, chief household financial officer in charge of doctor bills (they're here already), the religion reviews editor of Publishers Weekly (my day job), and bottle washer (a urinal is really just a well-designed bottle). He has a doctor's excuse. Me, I guess I was more tired than I thought.
Our daughter arrived to help with care and household responsibilities. Wunderbar, I have someone else I can order around now. He went to sleep, I went to sleep. Sleep heals, and joy comes in the morning.