Moviedust
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Scene: Sunday afternoon. It is cool outside, so DH and I are warming ourselves along with the dogs near the fire.
DH is standing infront of the fire to warm his backside after coming in from below freezing temps outside. He casually puts his hands back onto the (broken) fireplace screen. Somehow, he manages to cut both of his thumbs on the broken screen. He exclaims in pain and shows me his bleeding, cut thumbs as he rushes to the bathroom to rinse the blood and find bandages. I look at his thumbs, make a face and say, "that must hurt" and then go back to my laptop without a second thought as he leaves the room.
Fast forward an hour or two.
I'm sitting in a recliner --still by the fire-- and Cedar takes a jump to get on my lap. She misses and gets hung up on the metal recliner leg supports. After a second of scrambling as I try to pull her up, she settles in next to me. My mind is paranoid that she cut herself on the metal supports because I didnt look her over. I hadnt wanted to make a big deal of the accident so as not to create more fear for her. So here I sit, upset that she could be hurt, even though there's no sign of any cuts or even bruises. She didnt even yelp (and she yelps for any tiny amount of discomfort).
I look up to say something to DH, who is sat across from me, when his two bandaged thumbs come into view. The irony over takes me: I'm panicking about the dog, who isnt really hurt, while I hardly even acknowledged the two bleeding thumbs my husband had just a few hours earlier.
I chuckled to myself as I relaxed about the dog. Lightened, I mentioned to my husband the realization I just had. Wasnt it great that I was learning to react to the dogs as rationally as I reacted to my husband?
his response:
Why dont you react to your husband like you do the dogs?!
:|
DH is standing infront of the fire to warm his backside after coming in from below freezing temps outside. He casually puts his hands back onto the (broken) fireplace screen. Somehow, he manages to cut both of his thumbs on the broken screen. He exclaims in pain and shows me his bleeding, cut thumbs as he rushes to the bathroom to rinse the blood and find bandages. I look at his thumbs, make a face and say, "that must hurt" and then go back to my laptop without a second thought as he leaves the room.
Fast forward an hour or two.
I'm sitting in a recliner --still by the fire-- and Cedar takes a jump to get on my lap. She misses and gets hung up on the metal recliner leg supports. After a second of scrambling as I try to pull her up, she settles in next to me. My mind is paranoid that she cut herself on the metal supports because I didnt look her over. I hadnt wanted to make a big deal of the accident so as not to create more fear for her. So here I sit, upset that she could be hurt, even though there's no sign of any cuts or even bruises. She didnt even yelp (and she yelps for any tiny amount of discomfort).
I look up to say something to DH, who is sat across from me, when his two bandaged thumbs come into view. The irony over takes me: I'm panicking about the dog, who isnt really hurt, while I hardly even acknowledged the two bleeding thumbs my husband had just a few hours earlier.
I chuckled to myself as I relaxed about the dog. Lightened, I mentioned to my husband the realization I just had. Wasnt it great that I was learning to react to the dogs as rationally as I reacted to my husband?
his response:
Why dont you react to your husband like you do the dogs?!
:|