A few days ago, as I was navigating the house with one arm (the other preoccupied with keeping Bennett on my hip), I attempted too great a chore in the laundry room. As I bent down to fill the cat dish for Emma, I misjudged my proximity to the furnace and scraped my lower back against it as I rose.
Naturally I hollered for Brian, sounding like my own echo the whole time. His first concern was the Bennett had urrp’ed on me (the usual prompt for hollering), but then he realized that I just needed him to grab the babe while I ran off to clean my wound. (I might or might not have slathered breast milk on it. Nature’s medicine…)
Well, yesterday I flaunted my scabs to Brian and our conversation went like this:
Me, “Do you see my back?”
Brian, “Yeah. You really got yourself good.”
Me, “Do you feel sorry for me?
Brian, “Do you want me to feel sorry for you?”
Brian, “Yeah, I feel sorry for you.”
Me, “You better feel sorry for me.”
And that’s how it goes, folks. Married almost nine years now and he almost doesn’t need a Square Piece manual anymore. *wink wink*
For further insight into my ignorance, I had to ask Brian for help while composing this blog and that conversation went like so:
Me, “Brian, did I scratch my back on the furnace?”
Brian, “Excuse me?”
Me, “What did I scratch my back on?”
Brian, “I don’t know. Something in the laundry room.”
Me, “Do we call that the furnace?”
Brian, “Yeah, I think so.”
Me, “The big silver box?”
I have no other explanation other than that 1) it was morning and 2) I’m a little clueless sometimes.
You two do have rather interesting conversations.
I am also so sorry you hurt your back!
Awww, I feel sorry for you and yet still want to laugh because of the conversation, all at the same time. 😛