Funyuns and Raisinettes

As I have previously explained my husband Tracy is the kind of person to jump in with both feet. As a result stuff tends to happen. Disaster follows him like a cloud of dust. I am always looking over my shoulder for that character “Mayhem” from the Allstate commercials.

I would like to say that the stuff that happens is really just the normal cuts and scrapes of being an active person, and that I exaggerate; but it’s not. There’s the time he got hung up on two fence pickets that stuck in his chest, there’s the time he cut his leg open with a chain saw, there’s the time he was riding his motor cycle and got ran over by an 18-wheeler,…you get the picture. If he were a cat, his nine lives would have been up a long time ago.

 

My night in shinning armor: Tracy

A couple of weeks ago Tracy picked me up from work eating Funyuns and Raisinettes, and drinking a big Coke.  I was a little surprised to see him eat these, especially in this combination. Tracy is normally a walnuts and cranberries kind of snack food eater.

We had the normal conversation at first, the traditional “Hi, how was your day.” All the while he’s downing a big movie theatre size box of Raisinettes, a huge bag of Funyuns, and swigging the Coke like a starving man. The whole time I am wondering what in the world is going on with him. This is not my husband. Something was off, way off.

After several minutes of listening to him talk, and watching him eat I had to ask “Tracy, are you ok? Have you been drinking?” Tracy is not a drinker, so for me to ask this means something was really off about him.

“Well, no. I don’t think so. Maybe.” was the answer I received. I looked at him thinking, “What? Which is it?”

“I don’t feel right.” He says.

“I wouldn’t feel right either if I ate all those Funyuns and Raisinettes.”

“No. I got hit in the head.”  

“Great! You probably have a concussion.”

I will spare you the gory details about his head being split open in three different places.  

It was twenty-four hours later that I found out what happened. Tracy was working on the motorhome and had the basement doors open. While he was kneeling down to get something out of the basement compartments the wind must have caught the door just right and caused the latch that holds the door up to let go. The basement door slammed down onto his head.

I think Tracy should be required to wear a safety helmet at all times. I am surprised our insurance company does not demand he wear a protective bubble. Being on a first name basis with the emergency room staff and having the doctor’s office on speed dial is no laughing matter to me. I have a deluxe medic’s bag for a first aid kit and it gets used quite often.

He never promised me an easy life, to remember my birthday every year, or to send flowers every Valentine’s Day. What he did promise me was that life with him would never be boring. Twenty-five years later I have to give him credit for keeping his promise, but sometimes, just sometimes, I wish he had not kept that promise.

We are excited to get started traveling but are waiting for Spring Break to end and the weather to warm up a little, but when things like this happen I get a little anxious. I worry, that’s just part of who I am.
 

If anyone finds that character “Mayhem” from the Allstate commercials tell him I said to stay away. We don’t need his help.

 

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