Who Says the Honeymoon’s Over?

Just having celebrated our 8th anniversary in December, one might assume that there’s precious little we’ve not done or seen or experienced together. Well, let me tell you something...today we had two things happen that I cannot recall ever happening before in the entire time I’ve known D.

I woke up laughing at around 4:30 this morning. When I finally woke up enough to realize what was going on, I realized that my darling husband’s hands were all over my chest. I was laughing hysterically and asked what he thought he was doing. He sleepily said that he was just having a dream about making omelets and was digging through the cheese drawer in the fridge. He was disappointed to find that we “only had mozzarella.”

Just hours later, he had gone off to work and I was at home cutting quilt squares with this. On the first square, I sliced into my finger. I called him at work and told him I was pretty sure I needed stitches. I really only called him so he could move along and get home because my plan was to go to the ER, where I was sure they could just put some of that glue stuff on my finger. But apparently he had different plans. He told me to meet him at his office so he could “take care of it.” The kids and I hauled over there, where my -ahem- darling husband jammed a needle full of lidocaine into my left ring finger then proceeded to tie the wound closed with three stitches.

No, folks. You’ve not lived until you’ve been sewn up by your spouse.

I can only imagine what he’ll be cooking tonight in his dreams...