My husband has a broken nose.  To make a long story short , we had a suprise party for a dear friend.  When you mix a pinata, a stick, and my hubby, what do you get?  Usually, lots of laughs and candy.  Well, in our case, all of the above, but also a broken nose.  Fortunately, a friend of ours happens to be a doctor and a Ear, Nose, & Throat doctor at that!  So - my hubby got all patched up and is feeling fine.  Looks like a raccoon, but is feeling fine.  The night of the party, my hubby & I lay in bed, laughing at the fact that a pinata caused his broken nose.  As luck would have it, my husband had to catch an early flight to New York in the morning for work.  Knowing people were going to wonder what happened to him, we decided that the people in NY wouldn’t know him anyway, so we could come up with “our own story” that maybe was a little more “machismo” a little more “heroic”.  So, here is how our conversation went:

Hubby:  “I could say it happened in sports.  I took one for the team.”

Me:  “Do you think that’s believable?” (Yikes…shouldn’t have said that.)  “Not that I don’t think you look like you play sports…but what kind were you thinking?”

Hubby:  “Basketball.  Someone could of elbowed me and broke my nose.”

Me:  “Hmm…you would of had to be hit pretty hard.  How would the elbow reach your nose?”

Hubby:  “Good Point.  Next story.”

Me:  “Just say we had a brawl.”

Hubby:  “Yeah, but if I look like this, they may be worried what you look like.  I know, I’ll say you are a body builder.”

Me:  “Why do I have to be so masculine in the story!”

Hubby:  “Well, it’s not really you.”

Me:  “Nah, I don’t like it.  It feels like me, even though it’s a story.  Besides, it’s so violent.  Next story.”

Hubby:  “Okay, 5 guys jumped me and this is the result.  Of course, I took them all down.”

Me:  “Yeah, they were trying to steal my purse and you defended me.”

Hubby:  “That might not be too believeable, we’ll say 2 guys.”

Me:  “Sounds perfect.  My hero, thanks for saving my purse!”

Lots of giggles and we go to bed.  The next day my hubby calls from his hotel room and I ask him if he had to tell “the story”. He says that he certainly got a lot of stares at the airport, but no one asked.  However, when he checked in with the “team” (for work), they asked immediately, “Dude, sorry but gotta ask, what happened to you?”.  In my hubby’s words, “ I started with ”the story” but then looked at their faces and saw the look of empathy & concern, and well…”     I say, “You told them about the pinata, huh?”  And he says, “Yeah.  Told them about the damn pinata.”  I tell him that he did the right thing, since he will be with them for a whole week, he doesn’t want to have to remember what story or details he said, as much as the truth didn’t seem so honorable, at least it was the truth.

Before we hang up, I tell him I love him and say, “One more thing, honey.  You could let them know it was a very BIG stick and it was very HEAVY.  Better yet, when you finish your story, you should say, You think my nose is bad, you should see what I did to the stick!”  He laughs and says, “Thanks for being on my pinata team.”

What a good sport he is….