6.30.10

Dear Husband,

This week you had the patience to deal with the following:

1.  Me being on call: my pager going off at 3 am, my blackberry going off at 4am, me screaming bloody murder after I hung up with the coke guy.  Me screaming bloody murder after the nurse acted like a 4 yr old and said, “She called me bossy first” (almost as bad as the time a nurse told me she thought we had a ‘5 second rule for needles dropped on the floor’ after she dropped one and still used it).  Me screaming bloody murder when the lady is yelling for no reason because I have already fixed her problem and I should be the one yelling because she woke me up at 2am for NOTHING.  I never actually screamed bloody murder, but I was not exactly Happy Harriet.  Being on call is stressful.  Thank you for not leaving me because sometimes usually my job is a ridiculous circus freak show.

2.  Me having 2 migraines in one weekend.  Thank you for picking up my slack.

Your pops is retired as of today.  At his retirement reception, the things people said about him…I see them in you.  You are scary brilliant, too.  You have amazing ideas, too.  You are a family man, too.  You are a Jesus loving man, too.  You are a good man, Devin Michael.  His retirement also means you better get on your bike because you two have a 60 mile race 2 years from today and the stakes are high…and so are the temptations for me to take him up on his proposition.

Yesterday morning I woke up to what felt like a roundhouse kick to my throat.  When I opened my eyes and pushed a large, tree-like structure off of my trachea, I thought it was your arm, but it was indeed your leg and you did indeed roundhouse kick me in the throat.  In your sleep.

Let’s not do that again, Chuck Norris.

Wife

How I Inspired Charles Schulz.

My dad sent this to me yesterday in a mass family email

Everyone said Lucy reminded them of me…like, dead on.

[awkward pause]

[side eye]

I don’t know what they’re talking about.

How Do You Dress Your Weenie?

Spare me the Michael Scott comments.

We had our hotdog feast.

Fine, one Michael Scott comment would be funny here.

Anyway!!!

De to the [re]lish.

My picks: slaw dog, Chicago dog.

Slaw dog wins, bee tee dub.

While we ate these, I asked what Devin’s top 5 foods ever were.

He didn’t mention hot dogs, which was weird to me since we were eating them and I was obviously alluding to the fact that they were SO good and had to be in his list.

It’s whatever

Hot [turkey] dogs are in my top 5.

 

some home-made oven baked okra

and a Leinenkugel LeinenHUGEL Lemonade Beer Delight

The best summer meal

We keep our herbs in water..apparently right next to where I keep my LOFT rewards, stamps, and Bird by Bird.  They keep for MUCH longer in water after they’re picked.

Picked?  Cut?  Hunted and gathered?

Don’t be fooled; we did not grow these.  Our herbs hate apartment life.

Have you given to Charasia yet?  Last night at Metro, they told us how these girls get to be in this situation.  Long story short, they live in a small town with their poor family, the brothel owner comes and poses as someone who just wants to hire their daughter and give her a good job that will enable her to send money home.  For $2000, a man sells his daughter into slavery and she is stuck for life.  Then, she gets pregnant by strangers and the babies are left to sleep under the bed where she meets her customers, and the baby girls are often raped by the customers as well.

Charasia rescues the babies and raises them in a loving environment

The link for their Target registry is at the top right.  I would love to be the one to hand one of those little girls a backpack full of things she never dreamed she would own, but since I can’t, I’ll at least buy it for her.

An early morning email

Huz,

I want you to know that while brushing my teeth, the most ginormous cockroach crawled out of my sink drain.  I take that back- I’m not so sure it was a cockroach.  It was kind of jelly-looking.  Sick me out dot com.  Anyway, I did what any brave wife home alone would do.  I screamed, grabbed some toilet paper, poured water on him to keep him slippery so he couldn't crawl out of the drain (duh), decided it wasn’t enough toilet paper because like heck I was going to feel that thing crunch between my fingers, kept screaming (but more like ohhhhHHHHH!  not so much AHHHH!), got more toilet paper, and then I lost all courage and I sprayed him with bleach cleaner until he arched his back in pain (about 12 sprays- probably one of the freakiest things I’ve ever seen and I work in a dadgum hospital where they pop off dead toes with pliers.  Too much?) and ran back down the drain.  Then I sprayed bleach in the drain.  Then I closed the drains.
That'll show him.

Be proud of me because I would normally put a cup over the bug until you got home.

Oh my gosh why didn’t I just do that?

Wife