Preparing to play Santa

Greg left early for work today because his office was providing free health screenings. He arrived home tonight with a chart showing his health data. He passed it to me at dinner and said, “What do you think of this?”

I scanned through the numbers. Cholesterol high. Blood pressure high. Body mass index high.

“These numbers are not good, Greg,” I said.

“But I don’t know if those numbers are even right,” he said. “Look, they got my height wrong.”

They had him listed as being two inches taller than he is.

“Yes, but all of these other numbers look right,” I said.

He again suggested that the health advisers hadn’t known what they were doing.

After dinner, I cleaned up the kitchen and put away the day’s mess. A receipt rested atop Greg’s wallet. It was from Panera, for food purchased shortly after Greg’s health check-up.

One French toast bagel. One cinnamon swirl bagel. One cranberry walnut bagel. One chocolate chip bagel.

“Were these all for you?” I asked.

“I offered them to other people,” Greg said.

“Yes, but did they take them?” I asked.

Silence.

Now I know why Greg is so enthusiastic about my plans to become a nurse.

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