Last night around 5:30ish, Michael calls me from his cell phone.
“You want the good news or the bad news?”
Which is never a good thing.
“The good news is that I’m in the car. The bad news is that A (his business partner) is on-call and got sick, so he asked me to cover for him, and I just got called in on an open globe.”
(Open globe: n., an eyeball that has been ripped open. Translation: very long surgery; put my dinner in the fridge, don’t wait up.)
“Oh. OK. Well, that’s fine. I’ll take the kids to church then.” (Thinking: Well, crap. Time to eat my words. Must. Be. Supportive.)
(Insert maniacal laughter.) “APRIL FOOLS!”
He got me. Real good.