Crushed

Today I found myself standing in the kitchen feeling like I'm going to have a heart attack and David asks me if I'm going to pass out again like last time. Of course my instinct was to say no, that I would be fine. But I wasn't feeling fine. I told him I was probably ok, but just in case, he should call 911 if I pass out. I wrote down our address for him in case he should have to actually call an ambulance. He said OK, phone at the ready, set his lips in a firm line and watched me closely, intent on doing his job well. Then I called my husband to come take me in to the ER. Zachariah pulled up within a couple minutes and David breathed a sigh of relief. Then the little stinker says, "Dang it, I really wanted to call 911." Turns out that was not a sigh of relief, that was the sound of a little boy's dream being crushed.