Why I don't deserve my husband

So right now I have a headache that feels like a tympani festival is in full swing inside my head.  A tympani festival with clarinet and accordion accompaniment, being performed in a packed high school gym at 40 degrees.  With humidity.  And a tone-deaf fat guy named Mo who forgot his Right Guard this morning singing along next to me.

Reason?

Adele.

Okay, not my dear sweet lovely little wonder of a beautiful baby girl who, with her amazing sister, makes my life brighter every single day.

But rather, her $%#$@* birth certificate.

You see, when a child is born, one must send in the LARGE FORM BIRTH CERTIFICATE to the Province's parental insurance folks.

Eventually, one gets a note saying, "dude, send in the large form birth certificate".

Well, with it being summer...and with them giving only two weeks notice...I missed the deadline.  

So rather than sending me a note saying, "DUDE YOU FORGOT, SEND IT IN OR WE'LL SEND MO THE MUSIC LOVER OVER TO POUND OUT A FEW TEETH"...instead of that, they send me a CLAIM.

A claim demanding that I repay the benefits I received in the past year.

Yeah, you read correctly.

I. MUST. REPAY. IT. ALL.

Remember that amount that I complained about during my 11 months off?  

Well, suddenly it seems like a pretty BIG FREAKING AMOUNT.  Pretty much like plunking down cash for a new minivan.  A really nice one...with a DIAMOND-STUDDED STEERING WHEEL, HOME THEATRE WITH SEATING FOR 30 PEOPLE, AND HUBCAPS MADE OF SOLID GOLD.

That's basically the amount they want back.  Well, it feels that way. 

So after having three heart attacks, crying for much of the evening, and admiring my husband's cool demeanour in the face of this storm (have I mentioned lately how much I LOVE MY HUSBAND???  REMEMBER THE FOR BETTER OR FOR WORSE PART?  THIS IS PRETTY MUCH WORSE AND DUDE IS COOL AS A CUCUMBER)...I am anxiously awaiting 8:00:01 tomorrow morning to call the folks responsible, so I can try to sort this out.

At least everyone is healthy.

We will manage this.

But you know, I'm feeling a TAD BIT O' STRESS TONIGHT.

Wish me luck in the morning.

And send my beautiful husband a bottle of Scotch.  

He deserves it.