So I am just so disappointed in my husband. Very early this morning, in Illinois of all places, there was an earthquake. And there were shockwaves felt all the way into central Iowa.
Now, when you have lived in the Midwest your whole entire life, earthquakes are not really something you have a lot of experience with. And since generally (oddly enough) I am asleep at 4:40 am, I was not awake to see if there were any vibrations here in our little neck of the woods.
But Big Sexy was.
Now, can I just ask, what is the point of working the nastiest hours under the sun (or technically, I suppose, the moon) for six years and therefore being awake during one of the weirdest things that has happened in recent Iowa history (aside from my dad’s visit, of course), and NOT EVEN FEELING A QUIVER?
People were calling into the radio and saying they felt like there was an animal under their bed (these are odd people who wake up before 6:30) and things like that. And my husband, who was working at the time, didn’t feel a thing.
Once again I have been denied my claim to fame. What a great story that would have been. And, yeah, sure, so it would have actually happened to my husband, and not actually me, but that is a small matter because the two shall become one and all that.
So, Iowa, I am afraid to tell you that yet again, you have failed. First you gave us the miserable never-ending winter, followed by the miserable freezing cold never-actually-appearing spring. And then you give us an earthquake but no one in my family gets to be shaken around. Fail, fail, fail.
I think Big Sexy’s going to have to buy me lots of flowers to make up for this.