It’s no secret that I’ve been in an ambulance or three. There’s an old episode of Home Improvement where Tim takes his son to the ER, and they bring him a cup of coffee in a mug with his name on it. I have a tendency to accumulate bizarre afflictions that turn out normal after awhile, but start out serious. So I can relate to that episode. If I cough or stumble, Mike likes to joke that we haven’t been to the hospital in a while.

Tonight, while out walking, an ambulance with sirens and flashers on passed me and stopped at a house down the street.

Feeling cute, I whipped out my cell phone and sent a text to my husband:

I didn’t know ambulances went to other homes on our street.

He wrote back:

Are you sure they aren’t just following you?

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