Wednesday, April 19, 2017

I am married to Frank Sinatra

Frank goes in for his colonoscopy this morning after a whole lot of whining and moaning about his fun drink last night.  He did fine, no polyps or problems.

He entertained the nurses when he was coming out of the anesthetia by performing New York, New York.  I don't know what made him think of that song, must have been when I asked the doctor for a new prescription for his stomach.

He must have heard:    Frank, would you sing New York, New York for us?

He was belting it out, too!

He says he has no recollection of the performance.


4 comments:

  1. Don't make fun of him for singing, when I was trying to keep from delivering my second daughter before my husband got suited up I was singing. I wasn't even as good as Frank since he was singing a very recognizable and even a good song. I sang - Anna Mae, where are you going?
    Upstairs to take a bath.
    Her legs are like two toothpicks,
    Her neck like a giraffe!
    Anna Mae stepped in the water,
    To pull the stopper out,
    Oh my goodness, Oh my soul!
    There goes Anna Mae
    Down that hole!
    Anna Mae?
    Anna Mae?
    Blub, Blub, Blub!

    See it could have been a lot worse. I am so willing to bet Frank sings better than I do also. Count those blessings girl.

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  2. Mr. Entertainment! Where's the video? LOL!!

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  3. Definitely a video would be fun, unfair, but fun. He could have gone the other way and yelled at nuns.
    I had surgery at a Catholic hospital. While I was still under, nuns came in and, with my family, began praying for my recovery. Well into "The Lord's Prayer" I began waking up. Imagine the surprise of nuns in habits at my beside, my parents at my feet, my husband stroking my hair, everyone holding hand, and serious praying going on. Apparently I was awake enough to conclude that I was dying. What do I do? Freak out, sob uncontrolably, and insist loudly they stop praying so I wouldn't die. I do remember: it was not my finest moment.

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