I thought for the first time last night, that God's probably rolling his eyes at me on a regular basis.
It started with my husband leaning out the parlor (well, homeschool/music room in our 1920s house) window smoking his pipe. It's too cold for him to go to the porch, and I live in fear our furniture will smell like the thrift store it came from if he smokes inside. So, we compromise and he leans out the window, pipe in mouth, and I shiver under a blanket on the recliner. So, there he is smoking and he starts gagging. I just ignored him. To be fair, he does weird things on a regular basis. Plus, I was watching "Parks and Rec" and Leslie and Ann were saying goodbye. I finally asked him if he was okay and faintly heard a "...no". Took me a few minutes to register what he said since, again, I was watching my show.
I went into the parlor/school/music room and noticed he was leaning back in his chair, not looking right. He told me he was very sweaty and needed a cool rag. I placed one over his bearded face and turned on the light. His forehead was eerily white. I worked up the courage to pull the rag off his face and OH MY GOSH. It looked liked the corpse of my spouse and it terrified me to the core. I quickly put the wet cloth back on his face so I didn't have to look at his paleness.
All I could think was, "Low blood pressure....low blood pressure". Considering I took first aid 3 times in high school to get out of gym, I couldn't remember a single thing. So, I did the first thing any first aid educated, level headed wife would do.
I grabbed his penis.
I figured, if anything could bring his blood pressure up, that should do it.
It didn't.
He quietly instructed me to lead him to the couch and put his feet up at a higher level than his head. I quickly obeyed, leaving his face covered for my own comfort. His color did eventually return and I told him he better call his doctor in the morning or else (he didn't).
We later laughed about my attempt to save his life with the grab-the-penis technique. I imagined God was rolling his eyes and my ridiculous-ness as well.
This experience was almost as pathetic as the time I bought my 4 year old daughter a bumblebee costume at a thrift store for Halloween. It wasn't until I saw her wearing it at her ballet class's costume party that I realized I was a juniors' sexy bee costume.
Wife and Mother of the Year Award? Nailed it!
