So... the day finally arrives when I can get Rick to his stress test. Barring any mishaps or over-stressedness, this test should allow him to move forward to his scheduled surgery date of September 4th. SHOULD allow him. The best laid plans, though...
So... Rick sets his alarm for 7:00. His appointment is at noon. But his danged Lupus damaged his time management abilities and hence, he was up, awake and bright-eyed and bushy-tailed by 7:05. I, however, was not. Oh, I was up, but I was anything but clear-headed.
You see, I had worried all night about how Rick was going to put his shoes on. It was already determined that I would be going to work at my scheduled time and then return home at 11:30, to get him to his appointment at noon. There would be no time allowed for him to be just getting ready at 11:30. No, he needed to be on the driveway and waiting for me at 11:30. And because I didn't have anything better to do while I slept last night, I decided to worry about it all. In particular, how he would get his shoes on. He can't bend over right now with all the pain.
So... when he magically appeared, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, in the closet this morning... I threw him down and put his shoes on him. There. Problem solved. Okay, so I didn't literally throw him down... but I did get his shoes on.
He stood up, smiled at me and then promptly sat back down and took his shoes off.
REALLY? I mean, REALLY, PAL? I sweated about this ALL NIGHT LONG!
He then proceded to tell me that pants were an important part of the day, too, and that typically shoes go on AFTER the pants.
And here I thought he looked so cute in just his shoes and his undies. He, however, felt differently.
I then headed out the door and could only wonder what I would face at 11:30. I can't wait to see the final dress when I arrive home. If he's wearing shoes... then he's been faking this pain all along. And boy have I got a list of things for him to do then. Things that require bending and twisting and jumping and pushing and cooking and cleaning and mowing and sweeping and plunging. 'Cuz if you can put your shoes on, you can cook. That's the only requirement, right?
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