Panting between running sprints in our driveway, my husband starts off saying, “If I die…” and I look up to pay attention and he continues, pointing to the ground, “there are two septic leach fields to our sewage system, one towards up the hill and the other back there.”

I’m like, wow, really? You’re going to be dead but I’ll be consoled with the fact that I know where our shit from the house is going. I was hoping for some cushy 3-million-dollar life insurance policy or something…

A girl just can’t have it all.