Waiting. And watching. And hoping...

...and praying.

Yes. That's really what's been going on here for the last , oh, say 38 hours or so. I've been on husband watch.

Ever do that? Stand sentry over someone you love? Wondering, waiting, watching? My bet is that you have. I think we all have at one time or another. It's part of life. And when this part of life is over--hopefully without incident--we'll sit back, laugh and talk about it. We'll say, "Do you remember?" and, "Boy, I scared you that time, didn't I?" We'll nod, chuckle and grin. We'll be thankful we're smiling instead of shivering at the horror of it.

So that's it. I'm watching. And wa--well, you know the rest.

Why? Yeah, that's the question I've been asking, too. Why? Why? Why, dammit, why? Why don't men read labels before they eat things? WHY?

Okay, I see I'm going to have to back up a bit. Picture this: Sunday afternoon. Bright, sunny day. Warm. Perfect spring weather. Pottering around the yard all morning. Eventually our stomachs growl, as stomachs are wont to do when not filled in a timely manner. We head inside to prepare a quick lunch to be eaten on back porch. Nothing fancy, just sandwiches. Lemonade. Homemade pickles. Maybe some fruit for dessert. See? No big deal.

For me, peanut butter and homemade grape jelly. For hubby? Shrimp salad on a bagel. Still nothing wild and wooly, right? I make my sandwich. He makes his. I watch as he goes to the pantry to retrieve a new jar of mayo for his salad. I pour lemonade, add ice and everything seems great. All good, right?

Outside on the back porch, we eat. Chat. Plan the afternoon. I notice hubby's glass is nearly empty so I go inside to get the pitcher of lemonade. When I open the fridge I spy mayo jar on top shelf. My gaze falls on the label. My heart lodges in my throat as I read

Best if used by March 07, 2007.

Holy. Crap.

We bought the jar last week. Put it in the pantry. Now this rotty old stuff is going down my husband's throat? Good God in Heaven, I think I'm going to have a heart attack! No need to worry about mayo killing hubby, I'm dying where I stand, half-frozen by the frigid refrigerator air!

He's been laughing about the whole thing for, oh, 38 hours and 15 minutes or so. He's highly amused but I just don't get it. Why did he buy a jar of anything without checking the expiration date? And really, why didn't he take a peek before opening the jar and using its contents to make his salad? Why?

Really, this must be one of those man/woman things. It's got to be. Would you not check the expiration date before you eat something? I'm pretty picky about what I put in my mouth so I'm sure you've figured I wouldn't just indiscriminately eat expired--or even close to the expiration date--food.

Just so you know? He hasn't gotten sick. No mad rush to the ER to have his stomach pumped. No violent facial eruptions. Not even a--well, no rumblings of any sort from him. Other than the laughter my concern has brought on.

Oh, and the maa-ing. Yes, maa-ing. You see, when I likened his eating habits to those of a goat, he apparently decided that when in the goatpen he should sound like a goat. Hence, the maa-ing noises that issue from him every time I ask how he's feeling. I'm giving him another 2 hours or so before I quit asking. After that, he's going to be on his own for Botulism Watch.

*Sigh* And you thought life was all roses and champagne around here, didn't you? Ha! The good thing is, I managed to write and watch (andwaitandhopeandpray) yesterday so I got a big chunk added to the wip. Ah, thank goodness for the silver lining!