Paging Dr. Whimmer

On our first wedding anniversary I poured my heart and soul (although hollowed, I still have one.  Bite me) into a card for Mike.  I then waited with eager anticipation as he handed me his card which read: “Erin- We have had our ups.  We have had our downs.  Happy Anniversary.  Love, Mike.”  More sentiment has gone into the final appeal for serial baby killers on death row.  I tossed my eloquently penned love note into the trash without letting him read it.  Soooo that’s how you want to play pal?  Game.On. I hate trying to remember this type of shit anyway.  

Anniversaries 2-7: Me pregnant, depressed or breastfeeding.  Occasionally simultaneously.  It was a riot.

By year numero ocho we were driving to the airport for an amorous weekend getaway to San Francisco without the kids.  Mike reached over and playfully grabbed my leg, “Honey- we will be flying back on our actual anniversary.  Isn’t that sweet?”  And I was all, “Yes darling, this is entirely accurate if you were still married to your ex.  Our anniversary is two days later.”  Mike appeared momentarily contemplative, “I’ll be damned, you are totally fucking right.”  I find this is usually the case.  And then we both started laughing hysterically. 

Last weekend Mike and I flew to Laguna Beach to celebrate our 9th anniversary.  Thank you, but I feel guilty accepting all the credit for our success since Lexapro has played a significant role.  We took a late flight and stayed at a bed and breakfast for our first night there, in a room the size of my car.  I immediately resolved there would be no sneaking of farts whatsoever.  Even though we were both exhausted, we decided we should probably do it.

Drops of water kept pelting my face from the AC like I was being interrogated by guards in a delapidated Shanghai prison, it sounded like a cat gang bang was ensuing outside our window, I started thinking about what I was going to name my next Yorkie only to catch myself silently repeating “Focus Errrriiiiin.”  Finally I was just like, “Are you bored?”  

Mike started laughing, rolled over and grabbed the TV remote.  OMG WHY DON’T DON’T YOU WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH ME MICHAEL?  IS IT BECAUSE YOU THINK I AM FAT? I AM GOING TO STARVE MYSELF NOW, THEN WILL YOU LOVE ME?!  Just kidding. Tantric sex and I jive about as well as Paula Deen hosting a dinner party at the Democratic National Convention.  Night night.

As a rule, I generally do not eat normal human food because my stomach acts like a total bitch if she does not get what she wants. It is crazy weird that an organ and I have so much in common.  The next morning my stomach wanted almond milk and quinoa but I wanted a fancy lemon waffle with a bunch of French words blah blah blah.  As soon as we returned to the room I ordered Mike to go walk up and down the beach for a few hours or days because I had some personal matters to attend to.

In the midst of my intestinal exorcism I reached over and grabbed my phone off the sink to text my sister at work because I was bored.  My sister works at a physician staffing company and we decided it would be an ideal time to prank one of coworkers since I can multitask.  

Ring Ring....

“Hi, this is Lindsey how may I assist you?”

Me:  Hello, this is....pause...(me grabbing a shampoo bottle and reading a name off of it) um...Dr. A. Whimmer and I am a proctologist specializing in anuses or I guess it is anai to use the proper term.

Lindsey:  I’m sorry?  You are who?

Me:  Dr. A. Whimmer.  I am an anal specialist.  I was just wondering if you knew of anyone who was looking for an anal physician.  I am so good at what I do, I want to share my gift with the world (my voice cracking)

Lindsey:  Um..Uh...Well...Are you um...board certified?

Me:  Yes, I will send over all my paperwork.  I am so passionate about anuses that I would even be willing to work for free.

Lindsey:  (Her voice getting all squeaky weird) Um...well...I think we will have to pay you.  (My sister later informed me that she kept having to put the phone on mute because she was laughing so hard since anuses are like totally funny)

Me:  Hello, heeeellllooooo?  Are you still there?  Oh good, there you are.  Well, I tell you what...just to show you how good I am, I will personally come to your office and give each one of you a complimentary exam.  (Tears were streaming down my face I was laughing so hard KEEP IT TOGETHER ERIN GODDAMIT KEEP IT TOGETTHHHHER)

Lindsey:  Silence.  Some Muffling Noises.  (Finally gets back on the line) Um, uh yes, why don’t I just take down your email and I will um contact you if I hear of anything. 

Me:  That sounds perfect, I can already tell I am going to like working with you Lindsey.  

At this point I was fucking dying and my sister promptly called to inform me that their IT guy was downloading the call so they could replay it which made us laugh even harder.  My sister is so immature.  Sometimes I cannot even believe we share the same DNA.

Anyhow, the rest of the trip was fab.  We relocated to more a more suitable location at the Ritz-Carlton and Mike made a heartfelt toast that left me aching with primal desire...“To my beautiful wife, I look forward to another nine years with you.” Um yeah okay.  Whatever. XO