Act 1; Scene 37: "Let's Not Do That"

I have already told you that I tend to be a bit dramatic.

I also tend to be a bit paranoid.

For example, sometimes when Robert heads to work I think about him driving in the car. All of a sudden I picture a huge construction truck (because let's face it; they're everywhere around here) plowing into the little black Pontiac Grand Am (only a two-door!) and the next thing I see is me rushing to the hospital and then Robert in a hospital bed with the doctor's telling me that they are sorry, and then I see myself having to figure out to do with my life after that...

Yeah, it's pretty horrific. Or there are those times when we are watching TV or a movie, and two people get stranded from each other or break up or one gets cancer or one man's family is murdered by a psycho killer (we watch a lot of Bones), I just can't help picturing ourselves in their situation. And every time that I get worked up putting ourselves in the characters' shoes (isn't that what we are supposed to do while watching movies?) I make an executive decision and say to Robert: "Let's not do that."

I'm glad he replied with "Ok" when I said "Let's not do that" to crossing the plains with a hand cart when I was researching the Oregon Trail.

I'm glad he replied with "Ok" when I said "Let's not do that" to being in a huge war with an innumerable amount of Orcs running in to kill our village and everything we hold dear. (Although he kept insisting that it wasn't real, but that decapitated head thrown over the wall belonged so somebody's father!!!)

I'm glad he replied with "Ok" when I said Let's not do that" about being in a war and sending our boys to fight.

I'm glad he said "Ok" when I said "Let's not do that" to me dying in a sudden car crash or hideous murder of some sort (like I said, Bones) and him getting remarried and having lots of beautiful children without me being there.

Yesterday we were watching an ESPN story about someone being paralyzed. I thought of a huge bookshelf falling on my legs and becoming paralyzed, and not being able to do drama and dance very well anymore. I said to Robert, "Let's not do that." This time, however, he replied with: "If you were paralyzed, you wouldn't have to walk across the plains." 

Robert agreed that if I became paralyzed, he would toss me in the back of the hand cart with the flour and cornmeal and pull me all the way to Zion. But then he said to me:

"Let's not do that."