Last night, whilst I was traipsing around in my pajamas which look like actual clothing, I ventured outside and promptly stepped on a bug with my bare feet. At first I did not know what I had stepped on, just that there was this suspicious firm pebble-sized object now affixed to my right big toe, so I continued to try to convince myself that it was NOT a bug that I had just squashed and it was not bug juice which caused the bug-sized object to permanently adhere itself to my toe. It was rather a piece of leftover road salt with special alien glue properties’ or something. Then after several excruciating seconds, I peeked and found that indeed there was now an ex-bug stuck to my lovely big toe.
And that’s when the shrieking started.
Esteban demonstrated his perfect husband skills, however. You must give props to Esteban. I scrapped the bug off my big toe and then proceeded to envelop myself in the Mother Of All Pissy Moods. Esteban chose that moment to talk with me.
‘What’s wrong?’ He asked, very concerned as always for my welfare.
‘I just stepped on a bug’ I snapped. I was starting to freak out a bit because now my toe was starting to feel itchy and it was possibly that somehow little baby bugs were going to hatch out of my toe and I would then gain the nickname ‘Bug Toe’ for the rest of my natural life.
‘And this is my fault somehow, right?’ He said, without even a hint of sarcasm.
‘Yes. Yes it is.’
‘And if I bring you ice cream, this will make it better?’
‘Yes. Yes it will.’
Thus, Esteban went to the ice cream place and bought ice cream and I went to boil my leg.
The true test of a relationship is not how well you get along, it is rather how willing you are to apologize for something that is not your fault.
I regularly apologize to Esteban for the President. Also for the stupid plots on ‘Friends’.
In the middle of the night last night, Esteban wakes me up and says ‘What kind of bug?’
‘What?’
‘What kind of bug did you step on?’
‘Um, a pill bug I think’ I don’t know really.’
‘Oh.’
‘Why did you want to know?’
‘I just thought it might have been a different kind of bug.’
Because he and I share a great hatred of June bugs. I couldn’t eat kidney beans until I was 19 years old because they reminded me of June bugs.
If it had been a June bug, I would be in the hospital. And I would have gone poo in my cute pajamas. Right there and then.
But it wasn’t a June bug so all may sleep soundly tonight.
