Blood, Sweat and Wine

Phone conversation between husband and I at 6 p.m. Tuesday.

Me (in my most urgent voice): Can you stop on your way home and get me some Band-Aids?

Husband (not very urgent response): I guess. Why?

Me: I made dinner.

Husband: I'll get a variety pack. We should really be prepared for this, knowing what we do.

Me: Thanks?

Stuffed peppers. I dripped a little into his pepper for good luck. The husband and I are now connected through blood. Like the Ya-Ya Sisterhood.

In true dramatic form, I chose the largest bandage from my apparently much-neeeded variety pack, which I'm assuming grants me a hall pass from cooking dinner the rest of the week.



As you can imagine, it was very traumatic. Wine helped.