Person of the Day

Today’s dedicated PERSON OF THE DAY is my husband, Hex. He is worthy of writing about because there surely will never be another person like him. I have told him repeatedly that if he ever dies before me, I would never marry again because I don’t think anyone could ever top his memory. He gives me material to write about so one day I can make a compilation for a book to fund our retirement. And here’s another for memory lane and the retirement fund.

Hex, that’s his name, and don’t say it so loud because he might come running, but only after he has finished reading his email, his coffee, write “just one more” last email, say good-bye to the person that he is instant messaging with, ignore you for two minutes before responding with “What did you say?” And then he “might” just get up after a good streeeeeeetch, but don’t bet on it because he will plop down again to read a blog and forget that you were hollering for help, some help, any help, no help.

Normally, I am not a betting person, but I am willing to gamble a bet that if anyone did get Hex to run , he would run over that person to get to them. It’s safer for everyone if he just walks so call his name softly, even though he won’t hear it, because he can’t hurt anyone walking.

So let him walk, fore he can only be a menace to himself. Most often the harm he causes is the stubbing of the toe. Normal stubbing of the toe will hurt like the dickens and that’s all. But not for him, it’s total blood and gore, the splitting of the toe nails down the middle, ripping of layers of skin, and THE SCREAM.

Today he had another toe stubbing. And this time I wasn’t around to hear the scream. And I didn’t know about it as we were lunching outside in the backyard. And I only knew about it after Basil stepped on his dad’s big toe and his dad said, “Basil, watch the toe!”

I looked down at something so mangled and bloodied that I wouldn’t have known it to be a big toe if I didn’t have understanding of what a foot should look like with the normal alignment of the toes. It was ugly.

“Hex, WHAT HAPPENED?”

“Oh, I just stubbed my toe on the way to pick up Basil.”

“Oh my God, are you hurt? Basil, WATCH OUT FOR YOUR DAD’S TOE!”

“It’s alright Alexis.”

“No it’s not alright! You have to teach the kids to be caring and thoughtful of people with injuries.”

“You are right Alexis. But it’s not good to yell so much.”

“You are right Hex. I’ll lower my voice.”

“Thank you for saying so Alexis. And you are right too.”

“Why thank you Hex. Now, clean your foot so I can bandage it.”

“No, after lunch.”

“THAT’S DISGUSTING! THERE’S BLOOD EVERYWHERE, WITH GLOBS OF CLOTS, AND A PUDDLE OF IT IN THE SANDLE!”

“I’ll wait.”

And so I am sitting at lunch, not eating lunch, and all grossed out. Eventually he did clean his foot and I was able to see what med students see in school – the red meat of a toe. He should have been sitting down and keeping his wound clean while I fetched the first aid. Instead I found him on the garden frame, hurt toe in the dirt, counting tulips.

“Where’s Lily? I gave her to you.”

“Oh, don’t worry Alexis.”

“Of course, I am worried. I gave her to you. Where is she?”

“In the tulips.”

I lean over him to see my newborn lying on winter-rye grass with tulip sprouts surrounding her. No respect.

“Go wash your toe again. It has dirt on it.”

“In a little bit.”

Ten minutes later, I have this man on the lawn chair and I can finally apply a bandage.

“Get in the van, I’ll drive you to work.”

“I can walk.”

“Not with a toe like that. STOP! DON’T EVEN TRY TO STICK YOUR TOE BACK IN THAT SANDLE! OH YUCK! YOU CAN’T WEAR THAT TO WORK WITH ALL THAT BLOOD!”

“No problem.”

And it was no problem for him to suffer the pain to walk because he didn’t mind the pain. He sashsayed his tooshies to work. Before he left he did say:

“I’ll be home at 6 tonight.”

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