“Good morning!”

“Sure.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The hospital sucked.”

“They do.”

“But…”

“Oh no. What did you do?”

“Did I ever tell you how much I like scrubs?”

“The clothes or the TLC song?”

“Both.”

“No. You never mentioned that. Either.”

“And you know what the nurses all wear?”

“Please tell me you didn’t…”

“So this nurse, the third shift nurse…”

“Mike.”

“Well she had to come check my vitals every night.”

“Her job.”

“Yeah. But she always smelled so nice.”

“Perfume.”

“No. It was just her scent.”

“Her musk?”

“Mmhmm. Like berries and sex.”

“What did you do to the poor girl?”

“Well she came in and woke me up when she flipped on the light. And I was in the middle of a dream.”

“A sex dream.”

“Let’s call it an erotic dream. Sounds steamier that way.”

“I won’t. Continue.”

“Well in the dream I was, you know, in the middle of…”

“I know what happens in a sex dream.”

“Erotic dream. But yeah. Well it had an effect on my…”

“Gross.”

“So she turns on the light and my duder is standing at attention.”

“Duder?”

“Dong?”

“Boner.”

“Don’t ever say that again. Please.”

“Don’t say boner? Fine. No more boner talk.”

“It sends a cold chill down my spine when you say it. You make it sound so distasteful.”

“Because it is?”

“Let’s just say the nurse found it very tasteful.”

“So. Gross.”

“It was like a scene from a fantasy.”

“Dirty Nurses 7?”

“Is that a thing?”

“I’m willing to bet it is.”

“If it isn’t it should be.”

“It probably shouldn’t but is anyway.”

“We live in a world of wonder.”

“Do we?”

“I don’t know. Sure?”

“So you had sex with your nurse.”

“She had sex with her patient?”

“Isn’t the the same thing?”

“Tomato potato.”

“Still not right.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“Well I have a question.”

“They were b cups. Perfect tear drops.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

“She has the cutest mole just in nook of where her thigh meets her hip.”

“Now that is kind of sexy. Still not the question.”

“No she wasn’t shaved.”

“Damn it. The question is not about the nurse. Trimmed though?”

“Yeah. Nicely manicured.”

“That’s good. I guess.”

“I thought so. Just long enough to be soft. You know when it is too short and it feels like a scouring pad.”

“Yeah. Either hairless or leave some. In between is always a mess.”

“Right. Totally agree. What was your question?”

“When you came to you said something strange ”

“Don’t touch my no no spot?”

“No. That would have been strange too. You said you know a secret. What is the secret?”

“I knew you’d ask. And I will not answer it now. But when you get home you’ll find an envelope. Do not open it until the twenty fifth.”

“Why not?”

“Because I may not know a secret.”

“The twenty fifth? Why that day?”

“You’ll understand when the time is right. If it is true I’ll explain everything. If it is wrong then I will breathe a sigh of relief.”

“That’s weird.”

“You have no idea. None whatsoever.”

“So the nurse, seeing her again?”

“Not sure.”

“Why not?”

“I’m waiting for a sign.”

“Of what exactly?”

“Don’t know. The twenty fifth I guess.”

“So you’re just going to coast until then?”

“That’s the plan.”

“You’re weird sometimes.”

“I know.”

“But I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too. I think.”

“You think?”

“If you had the chance to be with your loved ones and heroes or suffer alone, which would you pick?”

“The first choice. How about you?”

“I’m not all that smart.”

“Duh.”

“Yeah. Burritos for lunch?”

“Got your wallet?”

“About that…”

“Is it too late to take back calling that ambulance?”

“Maybe.”

“You know I technically saved your life.”

“That means you have responsibility for me. That includes meals.”

“I didn’t fucking adopt you.”

“But mom, I’m hungy.”

“Hungy? Really?”

“My tummy needs yum yums.”

“Fine. Asshole.”

“Wow. You really turned into my idea of a mother.”

“Oh Mikey, what’s wrong with you?”

“So much. So very much.”

“Fine. I’ll buy burritos.”

“Thanks Mom. After can we go to the park?”

“I hate you.”

“So accurate. Really into the role play.”

“—”

“The silent treatment. Brilliant.”

“I’m done with you.”

“Okay. Now you’re freaking me out.”

“I still love you. Big fucking idiot.”

“You just had to ruin it.”

“You weren’t like this at the beginning.”

“Like what?”

“So very… you.”

“I was too.”

“Nope. You were sweet.”

“I was not!”

“Why do you insist on that being an insult?”

“No idea.”

“I remember that first day like it was yesterday.”

“And not, shit, four years ago now?”

“Can you drink again?”

“I imagine so. Doc never said I couldn’t. I also didn’t ask. Why?”

“Burritos and margaritas at lunch.”

“Yes.”

“But not if you fist pump again.”

“Instinctual. It is in my blood.”

“Fist pumping?”

“As a matter of fact yes. I needed quite a bit of blood. Turns out there was a fist pumping club in town that also happened to be strict blood donators.”

“And you know this how?”

“Nurse told me.”

“Doesn’t she know not to talk with her mouth full?”

“It was garbled.”

“So she could have said anything?”

“Now that you mention it, yes.”

“If I could go back in time. I wouldn’t not call 911. No. I would not charge my phone the night before. Then it would be an accident.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Wishful thinking.”

“At lunch it’ll be wishful drinking.”

*Yeah it will.”

“Hell’s to the yes.”

“And finger guns?”

“Would you believe there was a fist pumping and finger guns convention?”

“At this point? Sure.”

“Oooh. Maybe I can develop new tics.”

“Yay for me.”

“No Mona. Yay for us.”