Amber Night

I am flying back to Denver this weekend to take care of my mother while she recuperates from surgery having to do with a thing in her neck.  I can't tell you any more about this thing in her neck, because I myself cannot know of it.  Talk or sight of blood (real blood–I'm completely down with in-game blood) freaks me out.  I am squeamish in the same way that Madonna is not Jewish.  Or British.  Or relevant.

In fact, just typing the word blood induces bouts of dizziness.

“Blood.”
*thunk*

See?

So I have completely avoided the details of what thing required removal, adjustment, or destruction in my mother's neck, holding the phone away as she explains it in great and gory detail.  I assume she'll have a bandage on her neck and dear god if she needs help changing it then I am right the fuck out of there, warp factor giddy-up Mr. Sulu.

What I'm saying, in a roundabout way, is that the future Mr. Amber Night should not have “nurturing” high up on his list of wifely qualities.  I'm thinking the lower 10% of the list, if it has to be there at all.  Let's say just above “breathes without assistance” and just below “most personalities not homicidal.”

To be fair to myself, I can be mostly nurturing.  If the future Mr. Amber Night needs a back rub, a hug, or consolation sex because Mr. Tate didn't give him the big promotion even after I used my witchcraft to make everything right again after mother turned the client into a chimpanzee, then I'm all over that.  I can be that wife.  If on the other hand the future Mr. Amber Night were to acquire a sudden case of sucking chest wound disorder, then let me just say right now that I will always treasure our non-gruesome memories, and will dutifully take my place as the grieving widow over his very closed and locked casket.  Unless there's a smell.  In that case I'll be the grieving widow standing about 10 feet away in a well-ventelated area.  Actually…now that I think through this a little more, cremation might be the way to go.  Ashes don't smell, do they?

I think it's important for the future Mr. Amber Night to know this up front.  It may also explain why I don't get a lot of second dates.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 28th, 2006 at 3:55 pm and is filed under It's all about me, Main Page. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.