A little weekend levity. This is my favorite, and true, story of how I learned I was severely codependent.

It was 1987--I had just recently started Al-Anon, and my AH had come around and decided to go to rehab. He chose one that's about an hour and half from our hometown. I had 4 young children at the time.

The morning I was to drive him to the rehab I ran around feeding and dressing the kids. Then I got them in the car and drove them to their caregivers/school/preschool so I could drive him up there alone. In all that haste, I had just thrown on old dirty clothes from the day before. As he was packing he told me he needed a brush. We only had one. I hadn't combed my own hair yet, but I ran in the bathroom and grabbed the brush and put it in his suitcase. He told me he needed his white shirt ironed.. I ran downstairs and starched and ironed his shirt. I steamed his blazer. I folded the stuff in the dryer that was to be packed.

Then we went on our journey. When we got there, he asked me to go in with him, so of course, I did. We wandered in, not sure where to go next. Finding a nurses station, we said, "We're here to check in." There we were, him standing tall like a peacock, dapper in his fresh pressed shirt and jacket; me, with my old sweats on and my uncombed hair. We gave the nurse our last name. At that, she came around the nurse's station, walked up to me, put her arm around me and said, "Don't worry dear, we'll take good care of you here."

And I thought HE was the sick one!