Keeping in mind that yes, I realize the vast differences in the logistics that make up every family on this planet, may I just take a moment to point out that these people I married are CRAZY AS HELL? And my dumb ass perpetuated these genes.
In a couple of weeks I'm having a little surgical procedure...nothing life threatening and one that happens millions of time every day. No big deal. EXCEPT FOR THE FACT that last year I spent four months with a staph infection and on home health care with an IV because I had my broken nose fixed. Sort of gives you thought. So after putting off this surgery for seven years, it's scheduled, I'm in and as soon as it's done I'll be able to play the piano (the old joke...I can't play the piano now.)
But I think I'm forgiven if I'm a tad antsy. Just a little apprehensive, excuse me. I haven't HEARD of anyone around here having typhoid lately but, you never can tell. So last Sunday I'm sitting outside when The Big Boy comes in from golf. And he walks over and sits down and when he asked what I'd been doing, I explained that I was combining all these medical records into files for different doctors. And then I mentioned something about dreading this and the odds of my backing out.
And my husband of 22 years, the person who cherishes me above all others and who holds my future in his hands when I'm not looking says, and I am not making this up, "Well, 52 years is a good life."
Now, there is no point in time that a normal human being says something like that so obviously, I misunderstood. I said, "Hunnh. Short timer," or something equally mundane because I honestly didn't think I'd heard him correctly.
And that stupid fucker opened his mouth and said, "Fifty-two years is a long time to live."
I can honestly say, I was speechless. Me, the mother of an eight-year-old child, expendable. Disposable. Used up. And I'm standing there with visions...can't y'all just see this? I'm in surgery and three little hives pop up around my IV site and he says..."Aww, call the vet in Center Star. Just go on and put her down."
His family is...well respected. Successful. Not ax murders. They go to church and buy cars and I think the only law they ever break probably has to do with, oh, maybe...hell, I can't even think of anything. They're the most normal of normal. SO WHERE DOES A COMMENT LIKE THAT COME FROM?
So consider yourself warned. If I break both front ankles this afternoon? Put me out to pasture in a sling. I'm not ready for six feet under yet.
In a couple of weeks I'm having a little surgical procedure...nothing life threatening and one that happens millions of time every day. No big deal. EXCEPT FOR THE FACT that last year I spent four months with a staph infection and on home health care with an IV because I had my broken nose fixed. Sort of gives you thought. So after putting off this surgery for seven years, it's scheduled, I'm in and as soon as it's done I'll be able to play the piano (the old joke...I can't play the piano now.)
But I think I'm forgiven if I'm a tad antsy. Just a little apprehensive, excuse me. I haven't HEARD of anyone around here having typhoid lately but, you never can tell. So last Sunday I'm sitting outside when The Big Boy comes in from golf. And he walks over and sits down and when he asked what I'd been doing, I explained that I was combining all these medical records into files for different doctors. And then I mentioned something about dreading this and the odds of my backing out.
And my husband of 22 years, the person who cherishes me above all others and who holds my future in his hands when I'm not looking says, and I am not making this up, "Well, 52 years is a good life."
Now, there is no point in time that a normal human being says something like that so obviously, I misunderstood. I said, "Hunnh. Short timer," or something equally mundane because I honestly didn't think I'd heard him correctly.
And that stupid fucker opened his mouth and said, "Fifty-two years is a long time to live."
I can honestly say, I was speechless. Me, the mother of an eight-year-old child, expendable. Disposable. Used up. And I'm standing there with visions...can't y'all just see this? I'm in surgery and three little hives pop up around my IV site and he says..."Aww, call the vet in Center Star. Just go on and put her down."
His family is...well respected. Successful. Not ax murders. They go to church and buy cars and I think the only law they ever break probably has to do with, oh, maybe...hell, I can't even think of anything. They're the most normal of normal. SO WHERE DOES A COMMENT LIKE THAT COME FROM?
So consider yourself warned. If I break both front ankles this afternoon? Put me out to pasture in a sling. I'm not ready for six feet under yet.
Comments
Except, of course, "STUPID BOY" which has been the simple explanation for all male bad behavior of late.
Stupid, stupid boys.