Butter for President

About two weeks ago, (or maybe three. I really have no concept of time.) Stretch had two wisdom teeth pulled. Maybe I should say extracted, since pulled sounds a little more violent. Like pulled is synonymous with yanked, which kinda makes my stomach hurt. Anyway, I digress.

He had 2 teeth pulled. I drove him to his appointment and went in for all of the preliminaries because the nursing staff knew he would be too incoherent when it was all over to remember how to care for the new holes he would find in his mouth when the numbness wore off.

And speaking of numbness, I think some of the anesthesia got to his brain. My husband is normally a very private and conservative person. He doesn't meddle in people's personal business, like a certain woman he may have committed to spend the rest of his life with. After surgery I went into "the recovery room" to wait for him. He was wheeled in by a nurse we'll call Pam. So, Pam wheeled him in and stayed with us while we waited for further instruction from the doctor. While we waited, Stretch's numbness got the best of his mental faculties and he felt the need to converse with Pam. He is a chatty guy and will talk to just about anyone, and that's usually a good thing.

Usually.

So, mouth full of gauze and facial muscles lacking their usual vigor, he turns to Pam and slurs, "Who you gonna vote for for President?" My face was beginning to flush and I laughed nervously. It was so garbled she said, "What?" And he had to repeat his question. In her defense, it did sound alot like Who you gonna boat far fuh pwethident?

Okay. Is it just me? Or is that something that you just don't ask people? I mean, it could get hostile. I was sitting there waiting for follow-up questions like, "So, how much coin you pullin' in here, Pam?" and "Do any of the men in your family have prostate problems (pwothtate pwoblemth)?" God, in his mercy, held his tongue and neither Pam nor myself had to endure that embarrassment.

So poor Pam, (she was very gracious, bless her heart), went on to discuss her private political matters with us and then my very demure husband interrupted her with, "Vote for ice cream." Then he shrugs his shoulders and shaking his head, very seriously says, "Hmph, never did me wong." Then it was my turn to repeat what he said, because again, she couldn't understand him. I mean, it came out pretty clear, but surely he wasn't saying what she thought he was saying, right? It was like watching a grown-up talk to your two year old when they have a language that only you can understand, and you have to translate to every adult they speak with. So I repeated his sentiments about ice cream, only to be interrupted with, "Or you could vote for butter." Which was pronounced butta. And again, "Hmph, never did me wong. Butta for Pwethident."