I just stopped crying from laughter.

This is Scott, in mid-sentence, as he was heading out the door to go get me a pop in case I have a low blood sugar in the night.

Now, understand that I am usually grateful that he’s my orange-juice-or-pop hero, making sure his diabetic wife has what she needs. (We realized at 11:37 p.m. that we had neither beverage option.)

But a key part of this story is that Scott majorly threw out his back tonight. After coming home after Jazzercise to find Scott like a moving-like-a-90-year-old man, I went back out to get him a back brace and a bag of ice at Walgreens.

What brought tears of laughter was seeing him walk toward the door, keys and wallet in hand. He was serious. The man who could barely move was going to maneuver and get in our truck and drive to 7-11.

And be my hero.

It was a sight I couldn’t take. I pleaded with him to stop, and even chased him out the door. (Ok, chasing implies a greater speed than was actually happening.) He was serious! I started begging him to stay and let me go.

Just seeing him in that back brace and barefoot sent me into an I-can’t-catch-my-breath laughter.

“It hurts, it hurts!” he bellowed. “Don’t make me laugh because it hurts when I do!”

Then, in a strange twist of events, we suddenly heard 3 gunshots (or so we think). We scurried (yes, this time) inside.

Scott got some water and realized God’s provision–we had a Dr. Pepper inside our fridge that we’d forgotten about. So, I’m provided for. How cool is that?

The superhero and his wife are calling it a night.