It’s funny to blame everything on your husband. (You know, if you’re ridiculous.)

Clinic Doctor Guy in Doc Martens (CDGDM): How are you today?

Me: I’m great.

CDGDM: It looks like you’ve seen better days.

Me: I have. I was just being polite.

CDGDM: What’s up with the leg?

Me: Stress fracture in my heel.

CDGDM: And I bet you have no idea how it happened.

Me: Actually, I do. I’ve had four stress fractures in the past year. All because of running.

CDGDM: You would probably be better off with swimming.

Me: If I knew how to swim, maybe. My chances of drowning are greatly decreased if I stay on dry land.

(I then told him about my sneezing and coughing, which is the reason I drove to the clinic in the first place, although the side trip to the store for butternut squash soup was a great excuse to leave the house, too.)

CDGDM: Is anyone else sick?

Me: You mean, like, in the world? Because, yes. You should watch the news.

CDGDM: No. In your house.

Me: My husband was sick.

CDGDM: So, this is his fault?

Me: Yes. What a jerk. Actually, no. I was sick first.

CDGDM: But it’s still his fault, right? HA HA HA HA HA!

Me: Maybe if we were living in a lame sitcom, but I like to think we’re more creative than that.

——————————————-

Did I vote yesterday? Of course I did!

(Parenthetical Trivia: How many times did the man behind us in line touch my shoulder and tell us that he plays the guitar? Three times! Please don’t touch me. With that said, Rock On.)

Am I happy with the outcome? I am.

Would I be happy if we were waking up to a President Romney? I would be. I’m just sort of happy. Mostly. (Knitting and spinning will do that to you. I’ve heard running does, too—if your bones aren’t made of porcelain.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

13 thoughts on “It’s funny to blame everything on your husband. (You know, if you’re ridiculous.)”

  1. My fiance got shingles a month before our wedding and his doctor said it was probably because I was stressing him out and putting so much wedding pressure on him. Like, I GAVE HIM SHINGLES.

    Anyways yes, I agree– docs, cool it on the sitcom comedy.

  2. So, any resolution on the sneezing and coughing? I swear, your average number of medical issue-related posts has gone up this year, Angie. Let’s promote a reversal of that trend in 2013, shall we?

  3. I hope your sneezing and coughing are getting better, those autumn colds always get me down. I think they make the winter ahead look rather frightening.

    I am glad knitting and spinning give you such centeredness (I don’t think that is a word), I need to start bookbinding again, that’s what puts me in the zone.

    (David’s should be the Comment of the Day, thankfully I wasn’t drinking anything at the exact moment I read the post.)

    (Also, I think Porcelain Bones would be a beautiful and tragic diagnosis and/or nickname.)

  4. Oh, I was promoting swimming, but didn’t know about the drowning problem. Maybe one of those fancy recumbent bikes?

  5. Haha–I like to think of your bones being made of *fine bone china* hahaha

    get that fracture healed up soon!!

  6. I always loved that about you–that you are just sort of happy.

    AND YET NOW I HAVE TERRIBLE ENVY. I was sure a President Romney would cut a few years off my life from sheer annoyance (also VP Ryan). But I kept thinking that exact thing–how can I become the kind of person who can be happy no matter what. My friend once told me how her Grandfather was head of a museum and then the cultural revolution came along and he was demoted to street sweeper and he was just as happy. There’s some Confucian word for that kind of equanimity. I need to get that.

  7. Do you have porcelain bones all over (well, on the inside) your body or just in your feet and legs?

  8. While we were in line to vote, some asshat came along the line on his way out and shouted “Who’s here to fire a president today?” He sounded extremely arrogant and smug. So knowing he’s not OK with the results gives me some (more) satisfaction with the election outcome.

  9. Ohh. . . I blame my husband for so much. My four year old’s teacher pulled me aside after school yesterday to discuss his frequent use of ‘potty talk’, and I am convinced that it is because my husband laughs at it. Not in the outright laughter way, but more I am holding it in but think that it so funny that I have a twinkle in my eye way.

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