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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). . .

No Responses to “And. . .Then. . .”

  1. Meghan says:

    haha!!! the butter on the bread….love it!

    • Deni Lyn says:

      Yeah. . .He’s skinny as anything. Runs a LOT. Has no bad habits. Eats well. Yet he seems to have a genetic predisposition for elevated cholesterol – and it’s sort of become a running joke with us. So anytime I’m irked, I joke about feeding him fried food and butter.

  2. Well no worries as long as the butter and salt wasn’t for YOU!

  3. 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!