It was Friday night, and I had been at it for almost six minutes. “At your age, I’m not sure your heart can take this,” said my wife. Then to show how concerned she was, Mary Ellen burst out laughing.
Achoo! If I had known it was this easy to get such an appreciative response, I’d have sneezed 35 times in a row a lot earlier in our marriage.
Here I am, every week, trying to write this column, and the most I hope for is a smile and an approving nod. With any luck, I’ll then be granted a solid B for my endeavors. But my persistent sternutation (that’s sneezing) was, for some reason, a source of great merriment, far outweighing my fall last week down a full flight of stairs while I was vacuuming.