Twinkle: Hypochondria Explained

Lola and I shared a fun Mexican lunch today, and naturally the topic turned to mothers-in-law and the neuroses they create in their sons, our husbands. I shared with her an epiphany I had the other night about the origin of Mr. Twinkle's hypochondria.

Y'all know that Mr. Twinkle loves nothing more than to be sick. Monday night he had a light-induced migraine, and I'll give him that. I've had those, and they suck. OK, he gets one night a week to lie on the sofa with all the lights off while I tiptoe around. However, for the next four days he repeatedly complained that his "whole mouth hurt" and "nothing tasted good"--and the first day he had the audacity to blame his mouth issues on my vegetable soup. He eventually went to the doctor, who was baffled (as usual). I don't like knocking Mr. Twinks because he's a sweetheart, but the ambiguous symptoms do drive me a bit nuts. Show me a confirmed fever or a positive pregnancy test, and we'll talk.

So, the theory that I explained to Lola today is that the only time Mr. Twinks has ever received positive attention from his mother is when he's sick. It goes beyond most mothers' habits of babying their sons--when he gets sick, it's the only time she's nice to him.

My theory was totally proven tonight...when he arrived chez MIL complaining of the ongoing mouth pain, she looked all concerned, asked him if he'd been to the doctor, asked if he had a fever, and suggested some sort of topical mouth spray. He broke out his special prescription mouthwash--it is actually labeled "Magic Mouthwash," clearly a placebo courtesy of his doctor. He proceeded to take a swig in the middle of the kitchen, dramatically swishing and spitting in front of the whole fam. She offered him some applesauce. When nothing on his plate tasted good, she wrapped it up, in case it might perhaps taste better later.

I've never seen that b*tch so solicitious. Considering her usual surly demeanor, I can see why it feels so good to Mr. Twinkle to get that kindness and concern from his mother.

I'm nice to him all the time, so I find it hard to be any nicer when another mysterious symptom presents itself. When I pointed out my theory to him, he did agree with me...he said, "Oh I know! She was all 'Can I get you some applesauce?' " Another step forward for Mr. Twinks. Now if only he could get a firm diagnosis on that mouth condition...