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.”
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.