And. . .Then. . .

Me in a text to Chris early in the morning:  “I feel all sick and disoriented.  My arm is doing that weird numb thing again.  I wish you were here.”

Chris:  “You should probably see a doctor.  Are you ok?”

Me:  “I’m fine.  I probably just slept on my arm weird.”

10 HOURS LATER. . . .

Chris:  How do you feel?

Me:  Much better thanks.  My arm hasn’t bothered me since this morning.

Chris:  What arm was it?

Me:  My left.

Chris:  Sure it wasn’t your heart?  LIke a heart attack?

Me:  Um yeah, Mac and I hiked the entire park afterwards, hills and all without any problems or chest pains.  It’s not my heart. I’m probably sleeping on my arm funny.”

Chris:  Well, you never can tell, you could have a clot floating around in there somewhere that could kill you.

Me:  Um-hummmmm. . .(as I add another 1/2 inch of butter and salt on to his bread). . .


7 thoughts on “And. . .Then. . .

  1. Husbands can be very droll about things like that. I remember once when I took a few mommy’s hours off (read hours not days, never days!!) and got my face salvaged a bit. I came home glowing (to my eyes) and asked the Lord and Master how I looked, he said you look too pink, are you getting a rash?

    All that exfoliation for nada!

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