However, when people find out how protective of Him I am it suddenly doesn't make sense, mainly because of the reasons listed above. Yes, He's a big boy and He can handle His own shit. But that doesn't mean that I won't handle my business as well. You fuck with Him and you are fucking with me. It's as simple as that.
Just because I'm short and have a small frame doesn't mean I cannot protect Him. I will get medieval. I don't give a fuck.
Like I said I know He can hold His own and He doesn't need my help but it doesn't stop me at all. Normally He'll tell me He's got it but sometimes, He allows me to act on my protective instinct. I haven't gotten physical about it. It's all been verbal.
When it's the worst though is when He's sick. Because His immune system isn't the best. So when He's sick I get protective as hell. If I don't think the doctors or nurses are taking it seriously enough or aren't acting on things quickly enough for me I let them know it. Thankfully it hasn't happened a lot but when it does... oh the bitch comes out so quickly it'll make your head spin around more than once.
There was one time when He had walking pneumonia where I was waiting for them to come take His blood so they could run some tests. Not very much time had passed but I was still pacing the room. I didn't say anything when they came back because I know not much time had passed by but I couldn't help myself.
I needed to use the bathroom and wanted to grab something to drink but I refused to leave His side. It wasn't until they took Him to take some x-rays that I walked very, very quickly to the bathroom. I peed in record time. I then rushed over to the vending machine to grab a soda. I then walked very, very quickly back to the room He was in and sat down. I had made it back before they did. When He came back He was a little surprised to see me back so soon. As soon as they had the hospital bed back where it was supposed to be I walked over, grabbed His hand and ran my fingers through His hair.
He both loves and hates the way I get when He's sick. He loves it because I take care of Him. He hates it because I can be a little over bearing. But that's how I take care of Him. I don't let Him get up for anything besides using the bathroom when I'm home. I'll bring Him everything. He'll try to get up to grab a controller or a soda and I'm up in a flash telling Him to sit the hell down and I'll get it for Him. His normal "complaint" is: "I could have gotten it Myself."
I just look at Him and say, "I know. That's nice. Too bad."
I know it drives Him nuts sometimes, especially when He starts to feel better. But it takes quite a bit to convince me that He's actually okay. I worry too much. But that's just how I am and how I handle things.
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