Not an SNL Parody

**This post is long, but the story is worth it, I promise**

You want to hear something ironic? I am at school, my kids are taking an online TAKS practice test and I am so tired of grading papers I HAD to check my blog (which I haven't done in a few days). I have been a lazy blogger...I have been busy, the office is cold because I closed the vent in there to push more heat into our bedroom, and well, I just haven't had much blog-worthy news...until Saturday.

Okay, back to the irony...I got on blogger to post and then heard the "bleep" of my PC telling me I had a new email. I looked up to see an email from Corrie titled, "Blog." I haven't read it yet, but I'm sure it is about how long it has been since I have posted anything! So, here's a GREAT story for you, CLS!

The title of this post should clue you into its possible humor.

I must preface and explain that our house is set up so that our bedroom is the last to receive any kind of air, hot or cold. So, I decided I was tired of being cold when I got out of bed in the morning and we moved our guest bedroom mattress (the most comfy one in the house I must admit) into the living room so we could sleep by the fire and where the heat works, sometimes too well!

So, we are on our mattress sleeping soundly when Richard wakes up at 3:00 a.m. Saturday morning throwing up...he's got the dreaded bug. He runs to the bathroom, I follow closely behind and he does his thing. Oh, I'm sure you are wondering WHY I would care to see him in this state...my dear love, the 6'4", 210 pound love of my life will PASS OUT when he is sick, especially after he vomits. So, I had to make sure he was okay.

We get back in bed and both fall asleep. He wakes up again at 6:00 a.m. and is sick again. This time it is dire! He runs from the living room and into the kitchen mumbling, "I'm not gonna make it," and I'm yelling at him, "Just do it in the kitchen sink." Well, neither happens. As he is running through the kitchen, at this point delirious and about to pass out, he hits his knee on our pantry which is at the end of the bar. This causes him to fall forward and hit his shoulder on the refrigerator, which whips him around and down he goes, hitting his chin on the countertop on his way down...Oh, and it knocks him out cold!

I hear all of this from the living room and run in to pitch blackness. I turn on the light, which rouses Richard to consciousness and the first thing I see is blood covering his neck and the top of his chest area and I don't know where it is coming from. He looks at me and says, "What happened? What's going on?" which I must say freaked me out more than the blood.

All the while I'm thinking, "Okay, God, what do I do first?" I ran to the closet, grabbed an old towel and started putting pressure on his chin, which was gushing blood and had, what I would discover later, a very deep laceration. I cover him up with a blanket (poor thing was laying on the cold, tile floor), keeping pressure on his chin, and just tell him its going to be okay. He's moaning the whole time, "I'm gonna be sick, I'm gonna be sick." Well, with my hand on his chin, I knew exactly where he would be sick, but that was okay. Once I got the bleeding under control, my next thought was, "How am I going to get him up off the floor?" and quickly I realized I wasn't...at least not alone. So, at 6:15 a.m. I call his parents and ask them to come over and help me.

We get him dressed, and get a bandage on his chin and all three of us get him in the car and to the ER (across the street from our house).

He ends up getting 8 stitches in his chin, and two shots for his virus.

He says the shots hurt worse than the stitches, which I believe after having watched his leg tense and shake with each poke! Ouch!

He's better now, and the virus is pretty much gone. I think those shots were heaven-sent. He slept ALL day Saturday (thanks to the Demerol, Phenergan and whatever else was in the shots) and all day Sunday. So by Sunday night, he was able to get dressed and come to the Christmas contada at church. I told him he didn't have to, but he insisted he didn't want to miss me in the choir (like he could really hear me anyway...ha)! But, it was sweet nonetheless.

So, that is our weekend...in a nutshell! That will be a story we share for years to come.

We were talking about the scar that will be on his chin and he said, "Well, at least it's kind of under my chin so people won't be able to see it." I lovingly reminded him that at 6'4" tall he wouldn't find many people who wouldn't be able to see it. He just laughed.