I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw her prancing around in her elaborate witch costume, complete with a matching mini-hat and cape for *Charlie*—her beloved Shih Tzu. And don’t get me wrong, I love Halloween as much as the next person, but she dropped **five hundred dollars** on these costumes. Five hundred. Dollars. For a matching ensemble with her *dog.*
Meanwhile, here we are, carefully budgeting for groceries and figuring out how to make the most of our paycheck for the month. Yet she’s out here treating this dog like her soulmate, her little partner in crime. She even mentioned planning a photoshoot so they can have “memories of this year’s theme.” Memories?! For a dog?!
Then it hit me: she actually *does* treat him like a family member. She’s constantly calling Charlie her “baby” and talking about how he’s the “only one who truly understands her.” She even joked about putting him in her will once. I thought it was funny at first, but now I’m not so sure it’s a joke.
Now, part of me wants to laugh it off, but the other part can’t help but feel a bit resentful. Is it crazy to think there’s something a little… off here? Like, it’s fine to have fun with Halloween, but at what cost? I can’t help but feel like all this is masking something deeper—maybe she’s lonely, or maybe it’s just a quirky obsession. But no matter how I try to see it, I can’t shake the feeling that her priorities are, well, *somewhere else entirely.*
So, am I overreacting here, or does this seem just as absurd to you as it does to me? Because I can’t help but wonder what will happen next. I’m just waiting for the day she announces a full-blown dog wedding, and I’ll be expected to RSVP.
As I was about to drive my wife in labor to the hospital, I received a call saying my mother was passing away
Just as my wife’s water broke, I got a call from my mother’s nurse, and she told me my mom was dying. I was torn and forced to make a difficult decision.
The day Debra found out she was pregnant was one of those days that I will cherish for the rest of my life. We had cried together, unable to believe that we were going to have a baby home soon, and I promised Debra I’d be an amazing dad.
Debra and I had waited to become parents for a long time. We were one of those miracle couples who conceived after going through tons of failed fertility treatments and doctors telling us there was no chance.
“We’ll be the best parents to him, darling,” I told Debra one night. “I can’t wait to hold our baby in my arms.”
“I know, honey,” she’d said, smiling. I gently kissed her baby bump and promised Debra I’d always be by her side.
Debra had always been very anxious about the pregnancy due to the complications, and I had told her I would be there for her, so there was no need to worry.
Little did I know fate would plunge me into a situation where I’d have to choose between her and my mom while was in labor…
I still get chills when I recall that day. It started as a beautiful day. The sun was shining brightly, and nothing seemed wrong with the outside world. I was preparing breakfast in the kitchen because Debra wasn’t feeling well that morning.
I quickly assembled a breakfast plate for her, and I went to call her for breakfast. As I entered our bedroom, I saw she was leaning against the wall with one hand, clutching her baby bump and breathing heavily.
“Honey, are you okay?” I dashed to her, worried. “Should I call the doctor?”
“Gordon…my water…it…it broke,” she whispered heavily, and that’s when I noticed the floor beneath her. It was wet. “Take me to the hospital, Gordon…Please!” she cried.
“Jesus!” I panicked. “I’ll get the car started. Just hang on a sec, honey.”
I ran to our car, grabbing the keys from the bowl on the living room shelf. I opened the car door, then rushed back inside to help Debra.
“Don’t worry, honey. We’ll reach the hospital in no time. Okay, we’ve got this.” I was comforting her as her labor pains began. I was terrified and nervous. I was praying everything would be fine.
After we made it to the car and Debra got inside, I locked her door and rushed to take my seat. Then my phone rang. It was my mom’s nurse, Marla, calling me. My mother had been diagnosed with a progressive cardiac condition, and due to her illness, she was confined to bed rest.
Worried, I answered the phone, and Marla’s voice on the other end of the line broke me from inside.
“Gordon,” she said in a weak voice. “Your mom… She had a heart attack, so I took her to the hospital. The doctors say there is little hope she’ll make it… Your mother is dying. I think you should be here as soon as you can.”
“Jesus, Jesus!” I exhaled a sigh. Why was everything happening at the same time? I was ripped to shreds and didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, there was Debra, who was in labor, and on the other, there was my mother.
I went inside the car, tears in my eyes, and told Debra everything. I couldn’t hide it from her, anyway. She saw my face and asked me what was wrong. And I blurted everything out.
“Mom is dying, honey. She had a heart attack, and Marla’s asking me to be there as soon as possible. I am so nervous. I – I don’t know what to do….”
“Honey,” Debra said. “Call a taxi. I’ll go by myself…”
“What?” I was taken aback. “No, we can’t do that!”. She was drenched in sweat and moaning in pain. “Look at you. It’s just not….”
“We don’t have time, honey…Ahh…call the taxi now, Gordon. Your mom needs you. You are a son first, then a husband. I will manage. Your mom…she…” Her pain was becoming worse.
“I’m calling the taxi. Oh, God!”
Thankfully, I got a taxi soon, and I instructed the driver to take Debra to the hospital safely. My hands shook as I drove to my mother’s hospital, and my tears wouldn’t stop. My heart was racing, wondering about Debra’s condition and if our baby would be alright.
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