A Fly on the Wall in West Jordan, Utah

Did I forget to mention that Dan has been deathly ill? Ask him, he'll admit to never being this sick in his life. He holds his chest when he coughs, pants while going up one flight of stairs, and has watched the LOTR trilogy. Bleh.

Eva has croup. But I'd say they're both on the mend. As for me? Well, I'm perfectly healthy. As healthy as a pregnant whale.

Dan has been on codine. It's not even really a "hard core" drug, but it effects Dan as if it were. He's in and out. Mostly out. And doesn't remember things that happen. (ie Eva threw up all over me in the middle of the night after a coughing fit. I go into the room covered in throw up to change, and he had no recollection of it the next day. I'd say that it was pretty memorable. I guess not.)

He can't drive on codine. Good thing too. 'Cause we'd all be dead. I drove him to Wendy's to get a frosty. He couldn't even sit in the passenger seat and eat his frosty in peace. He was too busy frantically watching my every turn. I could tell he didn't like my driving. But I didn't say anything . . . yet.

Yesterday we were talking about driving, and I just started busted up laughing. I don't know why but I found it so hilarious in that moment that neither of us could stand the way the other one drives. And we're married for an eternity. So this is how the conversation went.

Emily: {laughing, quietly, and then erupted into a knee slapping, I'm the only one laughing, but I don't care if Dan is looking at me like I'm the one on drugs} Don't you think it's funny that we can't stand the way the other one drives?
Dan: {offended/flabbergasted/shocked} What are you talking about? What don't you like about my driving?
Emily: {uh oh. I think I started something} I mean it's obvious you don't like the way I drive.
Dan: Yeah, but what don't you like about MY driving?
Emily: You know, stuff. It doesn't really matter. I was only kidding
{We go back and forth like this for a bit, then finally. . .}

Dan: Well, I'll tell you what I don't like about your driving. You get too close to other cars, and it's scary.
Emily: That's the way my dad taught me to drive. Aggressive driving, you know? It's called knowing the dimensions of your car, and driving with empowerment.
Dan: The scary thing is I don't think you don't know the dimensions of your car.

So it could be true. I'm driving my Buick LeSabre like it was my old Chevy Metro. But hey, at least I have Utah plates now, so I'm not giving Minnesota a bad rep.