On a regular basis, my husband and I banter back and forth. I have to admit, my husband topped me this time. I was actually speechless.

[Watching TV: A bomb goes off and part of a corridor collapses]
Me: Did they even check that guy’s pulse? Or did they just assume he was dead.
Husband: He was under a huge pile of rubble.
Me. He could have survived, people survive under rubble in buildings for days.
Husband: True.
Me: If I am ever trapped under rubble, you need to check my pulse. And if I’m dead, I want a Viking funeral.
Husband: I would like you to stuff me and keep me in the living room.
Me: (blink, blink, blink)

There are just no words for that.

Below is a picture of a wooden grave marker in Carson City, Nevada. I took it on our wedding anniversary getaway this summer. It somehow seemed fitting to include with this post.

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