This morning I am going to be doing something that after today will never be spoken of again. I will start by saying Chad thinks I am crazy, and all I have as a rebuttal to that accusation is that maybe I am! My father-in-law has asked me to help him remove a medical object that was inserted into his neck for drainage reasons. Lets not get into the details any further than that, for those of you with weak stomachs, but my dear husband has insisted that if I am going to do this that I MUST wear gloves. He is obviously much more affected by the thought of this than I am, because three times last night and twice again this morning he made me promise I would wear gloves. He refused to talk about it any further, just those little ominous comments, "Wear gloves, I'm serious.". I am slightly amused by his trepidation, because usually the man is Mr. Tough Guy when it comes to wounds and stitches and basically any kind of bodily fluid. Well, that is not entirely true, because he can't handle vomit or toddler diapers that contain #2, so maybe I have an altered perception of how tough he really is. I guess the man can only handle his own wounds and various bodily fluid. Just goes to show you that no matter how big they are, sometimes you need a woman to do the job right, and in this particular case, to do it at all! He got a phone call the same afternoon requesting his services while his Dad moves this weekend, and I guess good ol' Dad called the right kid for the various jobs he needed performed. Why am I always the recipient of such calls? I must have the equivalent of a neon sign that blinks the message over and over, "I cannot say no, so ask me!". Still, the color of Chad's face when he gravely glove-commanded me was worth saying yes! I love that silly man!!
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