Just a little funny story.

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Last year I spent the holidays recovering from chemotherapy and surgery on my mother's livingroom couch. Her place is very small and she and her boyfriend, were standing there having some sort of conversation while I was sitting quietly on the couch. My mother and her boyfriend are both pretty avid vodka drinkers, while I'm a teetotler, the extent of my alcohol consumption being the tablespoon of cough medicine my mother gave me asca child when I had a cold.

As I was sitting there, I noticed a cut on my hand, which I decided should be disinfected, so tired, frail looking me interjected out of the blue in the midst of their conversation and asked "Do you have any alcohol?"

The conversation came to a dead stop and they both turned and looked at me in stunned silence with their mouths hanging open until I realized the miscommunication and said "No, rubbing alcohol. I have a cut."

For a second there they had thought the cancer finally drove me to drink though, lol.

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