Client (on the phone): I have a question. I'm in Florida right now but I'm considering bringing my cat up to see you all this weekend since the vets down here are so expensive. What I need to know is, my cat has this lump on his hip...could it be a tumor?
Megan (best receptionist in the world): Well ma'am, yes, it could be a tumor.
Client (on the phone): Wait, like cancer?
Megan (best receptionist in the world): Possibly. One of the doctors could talk with you about that and do some tests when you come in with your cat.
Client (on the phone): But I don't understand. My cat is only six years old and it has never been sick in its life. How could it have cancer?
Megan (best receptionist in the world): Well ma'am, I can't tell you for sure if it has cancer or not, but pets can have cancerous tumors just like people get.
Client (on the phone): That can't be! This cat has never smoked or drank alcohol in its life! I just don't understand how this could happen!!
Megan (best receptionist in the world): Maybe you should discuss it with the vet when you bring your cat in.
Client (on the phone): Well, are your vets even qualified to deal with cancerous tumors?
Megan (best receptionist in the world): Yes ma'am. We'll see you when you come for your appointment. Have a nice day! *click*
So, to pass the time while I wait to get a call like that on emergency, I've been sitting by the computer and realizing as I look around the desk/kitchen that my husband not being home has allowed me to regress from a newlywed back into some of my tried and true behaviors of singledom. Currently, Eve 6, Django Reinhardt and Amos Lee are alternately playing on my iTunes (all of which would probably be unacceptable to Aaron Ray, but of course he would never say so), a freshly-baked frozen pizza is cooling on the stove (whoever invented stuffed crust frozen pizza is a genius) and I drank the rest of the orange juice straight from the bottle with zero guilt.
I'm pretty sure all of this might surprise Aaron Ray since, just the other night, I announced that I wanted our family to be just like The Waltons and that I was going to be just like Olivia Walton and spend my evenings off catching up on laundry (which is not done) and dishes (which are currently stacked up in the sink). Drinking OJ straight from the bottle is most certainly something that Olivia Walton would not do. Olivia Walton also would not have a full time job, and if I was truly going to be like her, I would already be raising five of my seven children (the older ones would be doing the laundry and the dishes right now) and I would have said "Goodnight, Aaron Ray!" last night instead of, "Aaron Ray, would you have married me if my name had been Nicole?"
Poor man. I'll go back to being a housewife when he gets home.