I was talking to a friend a few days ago, and she was going on and on about how when bad things happened to her husband it reminded her about how much she loved him, because she would gladly take his place and have those bad things happen to her.
Johan and I were both talking this morning, and then he told me about how as he was walking Farah (our great dane) last night he kept smelling human diarrhea. So he checked his shoes (you thought I was going to say pants didn't you)...checked everything. And he still smelt it. As he walked into our apartment building he thought he must have just smelled it on the way or something, but then when he got into the lit elevator it all revealed itself. Farah had rolled her entire head and body in someone's diarrhea. He said he could barely keep from vomiting (this coming from a man who works with mentally handicapped people and deals with their bodily fluids on a daily basis). He showered her on the balcony and then bleached the whole house. The look on his face while he was telling the story was utterly terrifying. I thought back to what my friend had said...
And all I could think was... I am so glad I am not him.
I wouldn't have taken his place for all the love in the world.
And then I realized that I probably should never tell anyone that
...
xx
Bethany
