Mr. Husband: "How are your eyes?"

Me: "Why?"

Mr. Husband: "I have pinkeye."

Me: "Nice."

Mr. Husband: "I think I had it yesterday, too. At least I'm not contagious anymore."

Me: "Yes you are."

Mr. Husband: "No, it's been 24 hours."

Me: "You're contagious until you've taken antibiotics for 24 hours."

Mr. Husband: "Oh. What should I do?"

Me: "Go to the doctor."

Mr. Husband: "I don't go to the doctor."

Me: "You do now."

Mr. Husband: "What do I do?"

Me: "You call the doctor and tell them you need to come in because you think you have pinkeye."

Mr. Husband: "How do I do that?"

Me: Pause. Think to self, "You pick up that thing called a phone and push the little itty bitty numbers in the correct sequence and voila! you talk into one end and listen with the other. It's magical."

"I'll email you the phone number."

Mr. Husband: "I'm not going to the doctor. I have a phobia."

Me: "You're going to the doctor. Pinkeye doesn't go away on its own."

I don't think I have to tell you how crazy this conversation made me. Fortunately, the man realized that I might just be right (big shock there) and managed to go to the Doctor's office. How he made it all the way there all by his lonesome self, I really don't know. Poor guy still needs mothered from time to time.