Not what I intended

Well, I'm feeling better.

I'm pretty tired, but I'll live.  I think fatigue is just going to be a part of my life, from now on, thanks to medication.

Saturday I took as a recovery day.  I noticed some red wine slopped on the tile floor and I asked Ron if he'd consider the use of a covered cup.

He gets coughing attacks, which he refuses to address.  His attitude "If I'm sick I don't want to prolong my time here, anyway.  I'd refuse whatever treatment they had, so why bother to get it diagnosed?"

Ah, I can think of several reasons.  One, what if it's contagious?  Two, what if it's something simple like allergies?  That's "accepting" Ron's "I don't want to live a minute longer than I have to" credo.

Anyway, he gets coughing attacks, and has coughed mouthfuls of wine onto family photos, all over walls, etc.  This time, he slopped it on the floor.

He has used an 8 ounce open top cup.  We all know how this goes:  I'll have one glass of wine a day.  Now, probably more like 3.  That's per Ron.

99% of the time, he is tolerable.  He's clearly intoxicated, but not hateful.  He "lets" me sleep, doesn't destroy my property, etc.

Where am I going?  Well, I asked him to consider some kind of sippy cup, a covered (I assumed it was a given at 8 ounces) cup, so if he did cough, he wouldn't splash it all over the floor.

The LAST thing I want to do after a migraine: clean spilled wine off the floor.  I will have Ron do it tomorrow.

Ron said OK, great idea.  He went and got a 20 ounce bottle, filled it with wine, and went off drinking.

NOT what I intended.

He already yelled at me once tonight for doing something I clearly didn't do.