My Unit: "You still have a headache?"
Me: "Yeah."
Her: "Why?"
Me: "Sometimes my glasses give me a headache. And I did smack my head on the freezer the other day." (putting my hand towards the lump on my head)
Her: "STOP TOUCHING IT! But even before that, you were having headaches. I'm started to get worried. Maybe it's a brain tumor."
Me: "I might have a brain tumor. I might die from a brain tumor. You always said you were going to outlive me."1
Her: "So you're just going to die and leave me because of a brain tumor? Who does that?? So rude."
Me: "I know."
Her: "So here's what will happen after you die. I'll get a roommate and live in this house like a nun. They'll move in here." (gesturing to my office) "Wait, no, I'll move back here. I don't always like being up front because of potential gunshots. I'll move back here."
Me: "Are you going to repaint it?"2
Her: "No, I'll leave it exactly as it is. Like a shrine."
Me: "With all my Barbies and everything?"
Her: "Of course! And who'd sell a DVD collection like that? That's a woman-trap if I ever saw one."
Me: "What about the animals?"
Her: "Oh, they can stay and hang out. Well, Doogie will have to go. And you'll just die and leave me with nothing but books and Barbies and DVD's."
Me: "And yarn."
1: It's funny because my Unit is eleven years older than I am.
2: My office is Pepto Bismol pink.
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