He made it through his surgery just fine. He wants a root beer float and a gin and tonic, so he’s back to himself as well.
The most perplexing thing was that they took pictures with the teeny cameras inside him and printed them up, leaving them in his room. He, my sister and I just sat there looking at them like “is that a stomach? eeew what’s that??
Did they expect us to order up wallet sizes or maybe an 8×10 for the mantel? Looks like the family christmas card is taken care of.
In other news…I finally purchased my new mattress and in the process challenged 3 people to fight me. Also, when I went to set up delivery the woman said, “oooh is this your first big-girl bed??” um, I’m 31. Big-girl bed? Seriously? I guess it’s like being carded for cigarettes or something, you just pretend like it’s flattering and move on.
In case you didn’t know, this is my PSA to you all, old suburban women don’t like when you yell, “I’m fuckin’ hungry now, ya know” and then look at your sister and threaten to kick her ass if she can’t name the movie (Fargo). Follow it up with some choice quotes from The Breakfast Club and you’ve got a party.