Choking Under Pressure

I've known for a while that I'm not great in a crisis.

Namely after Challi and I once fled the room when my Grandpa was choking on a meatball while eating spaghetti. Plain and simple, we panicked. There he was, gasping for air in a moment of need, and his only two granddaughters tucked tail and ran. Thankfully, my dad was there to step in with the Heimlich maneuver to save the day, but let's just say we made a strong case for chewing carefully when left alone with the sisters.

And I almost forgot the whole horrible incident until tonight. Of course, I should have known that what I lacked in emergency reaction, Chris would more than compensate.

Because my nose is so stuffy right now, closing my mouth to chew up food is pretty much equivalent to suffocation. So, after taking a bite of some pasta tonight, I found myself trapped between bouts of coughing and short gasps for air. But just as I was regaining control of the situation, I got pounced upon from behind, having the wind knocked out of me in the process.

Hearing what he believed to be uncontrollable choking, hubby leaped tall buildings in a single bound.

And before I knew it, he was beating me mercilessly across the back, causing pasta to spew across the kitchen with each whack. Unable to break the cycle of madness, the more he smacked me, the more I coughed, leaving me helpless to regain my breath long enough to scream, "For crying out loud, PLEASE STOP HITTING ME!"

Thankfully, a few seconds shy of having my ribs broken by an overzealous Heimlich attempt, I was able to sputter, "I'm NOT choking! I just can't breath because my nose is so stuffy."

I'm pretty sure I'll be sore tomorrow. I may even need to invest in some Bengay. And after witnessing the dramatic ordeal unfold, it's also quite possible that Park may need some therapy later on down the road. Poor little guy's eyes about bugged out of his head as he ran out of the room in horror.

Clearly, he came by his flight skills naturally.

But even though I was unnecessarily battered for a pseudo crisis, there's no doubt I can depend on my man in a moment of need. (Well at least my big man, anyway, but who am I to judge?)

Which is really comforting since spaghetti is on the menu for tomorrow.

Now, we just have to pray that Chris chews carefully.