Monday was my father-in-law’s 75th birthday. We had a family party, and at some point, Mark dropped this gem on us:
We’ll have to do this again next year. We’re going to get you a trombone.
You know, because he’s going to be 76.
Yesterday, I had to go to the doctor, I needed a refill on my allergy meds, but it had been more than I year since my last appointment, so I had to go in and be seen. Which is fine, because I needed to talk to her about the ringing in my left ear. There’s no sign of infection in my ear, it appears that it’s actually sinus pressure (surprise, surprise), and she stuck me on antibiotics, to see if there’s a lingering sinus infection in there. If this doesn’t stop the ringing, she’s going to send me to a specialist.
I e-mailed Mark and told him that I might have to go see an ENT.
What does a walking, talking tree have to do with your ears? Oh, I guess they did call them tree-hearders. Now it makes sense.
I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t get the Music Man reference at first. I did get the Lord of the Rings one, though. I can’t decide which joke was worse, though.