Earlier this week, a friend brought up “So, how many chapters of ‘Vomiting Rainbows’ will be about Clare?” It’s a good question, because I have so many anecdotes that are fine and pure about our life together. The answer… probably one entire chapter and then related anecdotes sprinkled amongst the remainder of the pages.
Where will her impish sense of humor fit in? Her propensity for playing practical jokes on me? Maybe just one photo will do. This is a very practical, very useful “gift” she gave me about two months into our life together:
I should have used it and blistered my barren scalp, and said, “Thanks, hon. Enjoy sleeping with a Chernobyl radiation victim tonight. I’ll try not to ooze infected pus onto your pillow, love of mine.”
Because I always take it too far. Gotta be me.
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