Spare The Bod, Sell The Husband

(I have recently been diagnosed with breast cancer, and have just come home from the doctor. I’m in a state of information overload and am talking to my husband about all the surgical options presented (lumpectomy, mastectomy, etc). In all fairness, my husband has been super supportive, but this is not one of his finer moments.)

Me: “I’m not sure what the best option is. It’s a big decision to make.”

Hubby: “Well, honey, whatever you feel right about. If a mastectomy is the best answer for your health, then go for it. You know I’m not a boob guy.”

Me: “Yes, lucky me. But just think babe: after the surgery, I’ll be able to get any kind of boobs I want.”

Hubby: “True. I’m just glad you don’t have butt cheek cancer. I do love your butt. I’d be sad if they had to do a butt-ectomy. Screw the boobs, save the butt!”

Me: “Nice babe, that’s great…”