The year of me
I sent Sunshine a text in the middle of the day the other day that said, You’ll take care of Tenderheart if anything happens to me, right? And really, someone only needs to keep Tenderheart here until May 2018 so she can finish school and then she’ll go to college and then onto her life (hopefully).
As you can imagine Sunshine was confused on why I would ask that and she asked if I was dying and I said, We’re all dying, Sunshine; but what I was actually doing was filling out my insurance for the new company that just bought us. And the insurance is better and slightly cheaper because the company is bigger and I don’t have to be in a high deductible, HSA anymore. I might even be able to get some things done this year. Hello, mammogram, I’m coming for you. And maybe my uterus won’t completely fall out. Maybe 2017 is the year of me. 2018 at the latest.
But I was able to get a very small life insurance policy in addition to the one they offer and I had to make a beneficiary and you know whoever gets Tenderheart is going to deserve all the money in the world to take that job. And I’m simple, I want to be buried in an urn in a living forest so I will be one with the earth and no one’s paying a bunch for a funeral. And maybe it’s morbid but when you have kids, you really have to think about that. And obviously my sister will get Tenderheart for all intents and purposes but hopefully she’ll let her graduate with her class. And because she’s the 1 of my 1.5 readers I’m sure this will all be resolved today. Happy ending.
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