My husband has been doing some constructioning on our back deck of the fix it upper kind. It was at least a two day project and that afternoon it involved taking out and replacing some boards that were past their prime.
It was just after noonish, the boys were napping and I was enjoying some rare computer time, blogging, reading other blogs, facebooking, and catching up on the latest celebrity gossip - real brain stretching, productive time spent.
I heard a large boom (or bang, or thump. It was loud) and I happened to be sitting at the kitchen table where the patio doors are situated with a view to our deck. Except I saw nothing because the curtains were drawn to keep the house cool.
This is where I question myself as a wife. A good person and a decent human being.
I didn't even get up to check on my husband to see if he was okay.
I. Am. A. Horriblewoman.
Let me be clear though and say that I did not, after hearing the very loud boom, crash, thump, hear any loud cursing, yelling or high pitched screams of agony.
And I'm pretty sure I still could hear him tinkering away out there after the commotion.
At least I'm trying to convince myself of that.
A few minutes later the patio door slides open and in comes my husband.
I glance up from my laptop casually.
All body parts seem intact.
No open bloody wounds or impalements apparent.
"Did you hear that hon??!" he asks me.
"Yeah! I heard a bang...sounded like you dropped something." Oh so it could've been an axe or a drill that he
The thing is folks, my husband has somewhat of a clumsy nature about him. (our boys don't stand a chance - it's quite frightening actually)
In high school he was that guy who accidentally broke things just by walking into a room. I'd like to think he's changed from that guy but after a week-end at our friend's cottage wherein he came home with an injury on this thigh from simply breaking cardboard over it, seized forearms from attempting to waterski after a 25 year hiatus and the most massive, ugliest bruise ever where a seat belt had been carved into his body from flipping a dune buggy. Yes, he was the one driving it.
Really, I tend to think that he's a little bit indestructable. Invincible if you will.
Quite possibly I'm just in denial that anything terrible could ever actually happen to my husband.
(kind-of like the denial of all that is evil happening in the world which causes me to refuse watching or reading the news due to my anxiety rocketing to an extreme level as my insides unravel and quiver with distress. Call me ignorant, call me neurotic, call me what you will but I currently require no medication of the mental kind and I don't wish to watch or read anything that would induce that need)
I've since apologized to John. A few times. About being cretinous, neglectful and just plain horrid. And I find myself feeling even more shameful that he's more than accepted my apology, merely brushing it off without a second thought, "Oh honey, you know how I am." he says...
If that were ME and I'd fallen with a very sounding boom and he didn't come immediately rushing to my side????!!! You best believe he'd have some serious punition coming his way.
He'd never, ever do that though.
Because clearly he is a much better husband than I, a wife.
So now I sit here alone and feeling uncomfortably full from eating too much humble pie.