So Much For Being Nice

That’s it!

I’m finished watching season finales. They only overexcite me and it’s probably not healthy for my heart to race like that.

I watched Grey’s Anatomy last night and for those who don’t know, it’s a doctor show where everyone looks like they’ve stepped out of a J Crew catalogue.

Anyhow, it appears like two people are now dead on the show and the underlying theme of the finale was that you should always tell people that you love them because you never know if they’re going to croak.

I started to think of my husband Tom, who is on TDY at a military dog training school. Suppose he died? Suppose he got a brain tumor like one of the doctors on Grey’s Anatomy? Maybe that’s why he can never remember to put his dirty clothes in the hamper! Because the tumor is blocking his ability to do so!

I started to panic.

So I dialed his number and waited.

“Hello?” came Tom’s groggy voice.

“Tom! I just wanted you to know that I love you!” I blurted out.

“Who IS this?” Tom demanded.

“It’s Amber! I just wanted you to know that I love you!” I repeated. I mean, it’s hot in Texas. He could pass out from the heat. Suppose a polar bear got loose from Sea World and eats him? Oh my gosh, his dog could turn into Cujo and bite out his throat!

“Amber. Is something wrong? Are the kids—” Tom began, sounding alert.

“The kids are fine. I just wanted you to know that I love you,” I said calmly. What part of this was he not comprehending? All he had to say was thank you, I love you, too.

“It’s MIDNIGHT! I have class tomorrow! Are you telling me that you woke me up just to tell me that you LOVE me?” Tom sounded incredulous, which makes sense because the man really doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body. To him, being romantic is when he warns me that he’s about to fart so I’m able to flee the room and not be keeled over from the noxious gases that emits from his body.

Still, I couldn’t snap at him. Because again, what if he died? What if the last words he heard from me were, “Yes, you asshole, I’m calling to say that I love you because I want you to know how much you MEAN to me. You insensitive jerk.”

I swallowed those harsh words back.

“I called to say that I love you because you never know what is going to happen. I mean, first Izzie gets a brain tumor, then George---” I began.

“Amber! Who is Izzie? Who is George? You’re not making ANY sense,” Tom’s impatient voice cut through my thoughts.

Oh. Right. He doesn’t watch Grey’s Anatomy. He’s caught a few episodes and makes fun of the fact that someone always starts to cry. He thinks they all need to buck up.

“It doesn’t matter who they are,” I quickly said. “I just wanted you to know—” I tried again.

“Are they from a TV show? Amber, I told you to stop watching so much TV. You know it upsets you,” Tom interrupted with a sigh.

He’s right. I get too invested in characters and am still pissed off at NBC for canceling this fantastic show called American Dreams.

“Sorry,” I said meekly. “But I did want to tell you that I love you. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll let you go now.” I was about to press the hang up button but then Tom’s voice rang out.

“Thank you. I do appreciate it but do you think you can tell me you love me during the day?” Tom wondered.

I smiled. “Deal,” I promised and then added, "But just so you know, I'd love you even if your dog chews your face up."

"I'm going to go now," Tom said and then I heard a click followed by the dial tone.

Okay then.