Just letting you know I was in the ER today. I toar up my hand pretty bad in an exercise today but I am fine. I am soar but fine. Dont worry I will talk to you in the morning. I love you very much.
That was the message waiting for me on my Facebook page from Tom.
First of all, I find it amusing that he spells exercise right but not ‘tore’ or ‘sore.’ I love him and he’s intelligent it’s just, his spelling is....
....horrible. So it’s no wonder that Tommy is struggling with spelling. I checked over a paper he wrote and he spelled ‘enough’ as ‘enuf.’ And he got your and you're mixed up and I swear to you now, he won't be an adult who doesn't know the difference.
Honestly, the spelling wasn’t the first thing I noticed. I saw the word ‘ER’ and immediately pictured Tom with his face blown off and a knife coming out of his head—then I realized I was picturing an episode of Grey’s Anatomy and needed to chill.
Still. Why would he leave me a vague message like that? Why not send me a message explaining exactly what happened? Why leave me to panic? He knows I panic. He knows I picture the worst. He knows I have an OVERACTIVE IMAGINATION.
What if he did lose a body part?
What if his dog (he’s a K9 Handler) bit off his hand?
How did he tear up his hand to begin with?
WHY DID HE NOT GIVE ME MORE DETAILS!?
He’s lucky he doesn’t have a telephone in Korea. Otherwise I’d have called him up and demanded to know more information.
As it was, I had to wait hours until he came on Skype.
Was his hand half off?
So. Okay. He was doing an exercise. And somehow he tore up his hand. But how? He said he was fine, so that was good. Only..what if he said that so I wouldn’t panic? Maybe he’s missing an arm and didn’t want to alarm me by going, “Hi. I’ve lost an arm, but I’m okay.”
Finally, after what seemed like forever, Tom came online. I immediately called him over Skype and the second the camera clicked on I went, “I’d love you even if you only had one hand! Or no hands!”
I expected Tom to be moved and to stare back at me with only one arm intact. But no. He still had two. And he was looking at me as though I had a thong on my head.
“Amber, I didn’t lose a hand,” he began slowly as though speaking to a mental patient. Or Gary Busey.
“But your Facebook message—”
“Was just informing you that I tore up my hand. Not that I LOST it.” He lifted up both hands and they were both wrapped in a green bandage.
“Oh, my poor gimp!” I exclaimed.
“Gimp? Amber, it’s no big deal. We were in the middle of an exercise, my hand got caught on my gun, then my dog dragged me a little bit and—”
“You were DRAGGED?”
“I’m okay,” Tom insisted. “Just sore.”
“You could have explained all of that in a longer message,” I fumed. “How would you like it if I just left you a message saying, ‘I’m in the ER. Love you!’ That would be annoying, right?”
“I’d assume you were in there because you burned something in the kitchen,” Tom replied in a snarky tone.
Hmph. I shouldn’t have worried so much about him. He didn’t even CARE that I was in the ER..only I really WASN’T in the ER but still.
“I’m glad you still have both of your hands,” I said. “But I’d love you even if—”
Tom rolled his eyes. “My face blew off. Yes. I know. You’ve told me.”
“Well, it’s true. Just as I’m sure you’d love me if my face blew off.”
Tom made a face. “Why would your face blow off?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. A cooking accident? A monkey pulled it off? Only in that case, it wouldn’t be blown off, it would be pulled off, which ew, now I’m feeling sick.”
“Okay, look, we’ll just both agree that we’ll love each other if we have no face. Now can we stop talking about this?” Tom begged.
Isn’t it great though? Tom and I will love one another even without a face.
It’s sort of romantic.
In a creepy sort of way.