No he’s not. But he is in my club. I get private shows ~ sometimes twice a week. Brushing our teeth at night, he takes the stage at the bathroom sink. He (LA), Loves Acronyms. I complain about them, (DYSE) Do You Speak English? This went on for half an hour. Finally, lying in bed he says, “GD.” I assume, “Goodnight Dear?” “No, Goodnight Doll.” Sides split, tears run, and our crowd of 2 roars.
Last weeks’ show I call, Sabbatical. He had lunch with a close friend that afternoon. The friend shared all about his relaxing six-weeks of rejuvenation. (In case you don’t know this, my husband opened his own flooring company 26 years ago.) Knowing full well this dude hasn’t rested in 55 years, I ask, “Can you imagine 6 weeks away from work? What does that even feel like?”
“Oh!” He can hardly hold in his toothpaste. “I’ve had plenty of sabbaticals honey. Every morning after breakfast, I have a 5-minute sabbatical, and if all digests well, I’ll have a second one in the afternoon. Remember the time I fell out of a tree and fractured my T12? I got a ton of rest that month.” He didn’t stop there. Rinsing, flossing, wiping, back extensions, turning down the covers ~ we were (IS) In Stitches. God…I love this man.
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