Peter came down this morning at 6am complaining of some kind of a rug burn/rash on his leg. I looked at it, then asked him a few questions, trying to figure out what it was. I decided to go peruse our medical supply to see if we had anything that might relieve the pain.

As I was walking out of the room, I heard Brad (who was standing in the kitchen fixing his coffee before leaving for work) say to Peter:

Brad: “We may need to amputate.”

Peter: “Daaaaadddy!”

Brad: “I’ll do it for you. Let me grab a butter knife.”


Brad: “Then again, I’m not a very good doctor.”

I love being married to a man who makes me laugh at six o’clock in the morning! What a rare gift.