Ok, you know what? Chuckanucka. That's what. Chuckanucka worries about pretty much everything under the sun: What if the phone rings when I go out? What if the mail man tries to deliver my Deluxe Ugly Earmuffs when I'm in the bathroom? Hey, I don't remember leaving the closet door open just a crack like that! What if I can't ever stop thinking about my name over and over? Chuckanucka has a pretty strange way of looking at life. Sometimes he wonders if this is all just a hologram, and on other days he wonders what's going to happen if they stop making CD players... How will I play my favorite CDs??? I have over nine of them!!!
This is my husband to a T. Now that he's all excited to go on the Queen Mary, he doesn't want to do anything else this summer because "he might die, and miss out on the trip." This is actually what he says to me. I know he's half joking, but he is quite a worry wart. He worries about terrorists, diseases, my travel doll, and anything else that seems to fit that moment.
Poor Chuckanucka. Lucky Chuckanucka...
Last night while watching TV I was coughing, and my chest hurt. I mentioned it to him, and he said he was sorry. About ten minutes later he said his chest hurt too (whenever I have a pain, he miraculously gets the same pain too). I told him not to be silly. Then I asked him where the pain was, and he pointed at his chest, near the base of his neck. I mentioned that my pain was farther down in my chest, and he said "oh yea, that's were mine is too!" I got laughing so hard because I couldn't believe that his pain suddenly jumped from near his neck down 6 inches.
My husband, such a worrier. He's my little Chukanucka.