Relax. No one’s on drugs. ⁰

by Katrina • Daily Life, Mishaps, Uncategorized • Tags: Health, Jobs, The Husband

A conversation with my husband over dinner the other night:

Me: Oh…by the way, a drug test came in the mail for you today.

Scott: What? A drug test?

Me: Yep. It’s definitely a drug test.

Scott: Katrina–are you sure?

Me: Well, it came in one of those padded envelopes, and was sent by some medical company. Oh…and it was labelled “cheek swab”, too.

Scott: Seriously? A drug test?

Me: It’s probably for work or something. I bet the department handling your Minnesota PA license sent it.

Scott: No, my license was already approved. Plus…if it was for work they would have told me about it, not just sent something in the mail.

Me: I don’t know…maybe it’s just easier to do it via mail and then you can send your sample right in without all of the hassle?

Scott: No…that’s ridiculous. Why wouldn’t they just tell me I needed to take a drug test? I mean…I’m kind of, well, irritated that I got something like this in the mail without any notice.

Me: Why? I mean…they’re you’re employer. I think legally they have the right to do something like that. When I worked at the casino they had to cut a huge chunk of my hair off to test it for illegal substances. I’d been growing it out, too…and just had it highlighted! I told them that, but did they care? Stupid casino. It was either chop it off, or kiss my job goodbye….hey….hey….Scott? Are you even listening?

Scott: This just doesn’t sound like them at all. I think…no, I know our office manager would have definitely mentioned something about it to me. They wouldn’t just surprise me with it in the mail.

Me: Relax. I don’t get why you’re so worked up about this.

Scott: I am not worked up!!

Me: Whoa. Wait a second. You’re not worried you’re going to fail the drug test, are you?

Scott: What?! Please tell me that is not a serious question.

Me: Then please tell me you’re not on drugs.

{At this point, I began questioning whether the Pixie Stix in our cupboard were actually Pixie Stix…}

Scott: I’m not on drugs!! I can’t believe I even have to explain myself to you right now. Plus, they sent the test in the mail! Which means I could just have someone else do the it for me if I was on drugs. WHICH I’M NOT!

Me: Okay, okay. I’m sorry I accused you of doing drugs.

Scott: I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this conversation right now.

Me: You know…you make a good point. It really is kind of pointless to send a drug test in the mail. I bet so many people cheat on those things.

Scott: Yeah. I could just swipe it in Jolie’s mouth and they’d never know.

Me: Ha! I’d love to see those results. They’d be like, “The good news is that Mr. Taylor is not using illegal substances. The bad news is that he’s been eating feces.”

{awkward pause}

Me: Hey…why would you swab Jolie’s mouth and not mine? You…you don’t think I’m on drugs, do you?

Scott: Katrina. Stop it. Just eat your pizza and be quiet.

When someone tells me to shut up and eat cheesy carbohydrates? I listen.

*******

About and hour later, we returned home. Scott immediately went to the mail pile to open his drug test. A few seconds later, I heard chuckling.

Katrina: What’s so funny?

Scott: This isn’t a drug test, Katrina. It’s a medical grade tongue scraper.

Katrina: Huh?

Scott: A metal tongue scraper…you know, like dentists use.

Katrina: So…it’s not a drug test?

Scott: Nope. Not a drug test.

Katrina: Then why did it say “cheek swab” on the label?

Scott: It didn’t. It said “tonguesweeper.com”.

Same difference.

Katrina: Oh. Oops. But wait a second…why were you sent a medical grade tongue scraper?

Scott: I ordered it off Amazon.

Katrina: But we already have one.

Scott: I know, but these ones work better, and they don’t make you gag like the big plastic ones. They get you’re tongue really clean.

Way less exciting than a drug test.

Katrina: Wow. So you actually took the time to look this thing up and purchase it?

Scott: Yeah. So?

*******

At this point, Scott washed off the scraper and retreated to the bathroom to try it out. It might have been the lamest thing I’ve ever witnessed.

The real question is, which is worse? Finding out your husband is on drugs? Or that he took time out of his day to order professional dental equipment off the internet?

On second though…please don’t answer that.