March 12, 2012 by Melissa
Last week was a heavy week for many of us so I thought I’d tell my favorite funny story to start this week off on a lighter note. It has nothing to do with parenting or my life. It’s my favorite story to tell because it involves me peeing my pants but somehow my husband ends up looking like the bigger dork.
When I was in college, there was a blood drive going on at the student union one week. I decided to give blood for the first, and it turned out only, time. It was very busy the morning I got there-lots of students and professors there. I eventually gave my blood and was led over to the recovery station for some cookies and juice. I was feeling very lightheaded and it didn’t seem to be getting any better. I was going to be late for class. I hate being late. So I felt that enough was enough and I stood up to go. Then I passed right out.
Little does anyone mention that sometimes when you faint, you pee your pants. It’s not very glamorous in the drama that fainting is. I peed my pants. Right there in front of fellow students and some of my professors. The lovely Red Cross nurses helped me up and got me on a gurney and wheeled me off to a curtained area. There was a lovely little nurse back there who discreetly asked me if there was anyone she could call to bring me some new pants and underwear. I gave her Chris’s number.
Within a few minutes I hear someone running down the hall (bless him) and then I heard Chris’s voice. The nurse went out to get him and in he walked clutching a brown grocery bag. He looked worried. He handed me the little bag and I reached in to get the clothes out. I then see that he brought HIS OWN PANTS AND WHITEY TIGHTIES. I looked up at him with confusion. “I just got a call from a nurse telling me to get down here with some pants and underwear!”
That thought gets me laughing hysterically every time I think it. A drowsy college aged guy getting a phone call from a woman telling him she’s a nurse with the Red Cross and he needs to get down to the blood drive with some pants and underwear. Now, either she forgot to mention me in the conversation or he didn’t hear anything beyond the panic inducing part where she said she was a nurse. He just dutifully did what was asked without thinking twice. I love that.
So I squeezed myself into his underwear and very skinny pants (he’s got skinny legs…I do not) and went home to recover fully. Turns out my blood pressure is too low to reliably give blood but I have a great man to help me, and any nurse out there, when I need him. In fact yesterday marked the 17th anniversary of being with him and it gets better every year. Thanks for letting me tell this story, honey, and thanks for moving beyond the tighty whities… I love you!