I called Mr E Man at work yesterday and asked if he could possibly pick me up some cough medicine on the way home. Being the best husband EVAH, he brought me “the most expensive stuff in the store – this must be good stuff”, plus some juice and some chocolate. He then went out to a friend’s house to watch the UFC.
After taking three doses, my cough wasn’t getting any better at all. I finally read the label and realised that he’d inadvertently brought me the homeopathic stuff.
I called him again and asked him to make a second attempt. So he got the taxi driver to stop at the 7-11 on the way home, and triumphantly came into the house bearing:
Benylin for children.
So I took twice the recommended dose and went to bed. It was either that or put a capful of the homeopathic stuff in the bath, fill it up, and then drink a cup of the magically fortifed potion.
As soon as I’m better, I’m gonna
kick his ass teach him how to read labels. And figure out the answer to his question about an anti-placebo effect.