Category Archives: Greg’s fantasy world

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.

On a little shopping trip last weekend, I left Greg and Eleanor to wander through REI while I looked in a nearby clothing store. Eleanor ended up climbing in one stroller after the next despite having decided six months ago that she would never again ride in the stroller that we own.

When I returned to REI to meet them, Eleanor pulled herself into an expensive-looking contraption with giant wheels.

“This stroller is awesome,” Greg said.

“You could pull it behind a bike, right?” I asked.

“Yes, and when you jog with it, you can pull it behind you,” Greg said joyously. Please note that Greg doesn’t jog because of his bad knees, so this setup would be for my benefit.

“So I’d be like a horse?” I asked.

“No,” Greg said. “It’s more like a rickshaw.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I want to pull a rickshaw,” I said. “I prefer to push a stroller.”

Greg’s face fell, but then a little sparkle popped into his eyes. He tried a new angle.

“You can also use it for skiing,” he said.

“Skiing?!” I said.

“You’ve always wanted to try cross-country skiing,” he said.

“Yes, so I guess I’ll use it when Austin gets many, many inches of snow this winter,” I said. “And I think cross-country skiing is going to be pretty hard even without pulling that thing behind me.”

Dejected, Greg agreed to leave behind the stroller/rickshaw/snowmobile. He brought it up again when we got home.

“Cross-country skiing is a dream of yours,” he insisted.

“How much does that thing cost?” I asked.

“You’re asking the wrong questions,” he said.

Maybe keep it in mind for Christmas, Greg. Or better yet, Valentine’s Day. Nothing says “I love you” like a rickshaw.

Yesterday Greg asked whether I plan to continue with my frequent food blogging.

“Well, unless someone else is going to move into our house and cook for us, yes, I think I will,” I said. “Why do you ask?”

“Most food bloggers use macro lenses to take their photos, so we might want to get a macro lens for you,” Greg said.

Let me point out here that Greg has a digital SLR camera and four different lenses for it. And a film SLR camera that’s sitting in a closet. And a point-and-shoot that he recently bought for me but has since reclaimed for himself because I wasn’t using it.

“So this lens would be for me then?” I asked, my eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” Greg said. “Just like that New York Times subscription you got was for me.”

It was his Father’s Day gift.

Well played, my clever husband, well played.