Death Becomes Her

(I have a bad cold. My fiancée and I have a childish exchange.)

Me: *in a childish voice* “I dying.”

Fiancée: “You’re not dying.”

Me: “I are too! I dying!”

Fiancée: “Fine. You’re dying. Tell me when so I can pencil you in my calendar.”

Me: *without missing a beat* “Tuesday the 14th.”

(My fiancée starts fiddling with my phone.)

Me: “What are you doing?”

Fiancée: “You’ll see.”

(About three months later, I’m sitting at my computer. A loud alarm goes off on my phone. I look at it and start laughing hysterically.)

Fiancée: “What happened?”

Me: “Apparently, I’m supposed to be dying between 11:00 AM and 2:00 PM.”

Fiancée: *starts laughing, as well* “Oh! I’d forgotten I put that in there!”

Me: “I said Tuesday the 14th when I had that cold, and it’s April 14th. It’s nice to know you’re listening, baby.”