Back From The Brink With The Stewarts

I thought about just giving up my blog, but since you all have been clamouring and demanding new posts returning here day after day searching for meaning in your life blissfully unaware I had not posted in over a week wondering what could possibly have happened to me, I am going to just go ahead and tell you.  Let's start last Thursday.
The STP and the Goob were father-son bonding over some late afternoon ice fishing.  And I was baking chewy cherry chocolate chunk cookies from Martha Stewart's Living Magazine which I almost have a subscription to.  I decided not to renew my Better Homes and Gardens Magazine because Martha wrote and made me such a good offer.  And she was going to send me a free tote bag.  And her cooking magazine.  And it was an offer I could refuse just by writing 'cancel' on my bill if I wasn't totally satisfied.  But when the bill came Martha added a surprise 'shipping fee' which doubled the price of the offer.  And it seems to me that a mail subscription to a magazine should include the cost of mailing it.  So even though it was probably still a good offer, I had to write 'cancel' on the bill as a matter of principle and send it back to Martha.  So I only got one copy of Living and no tote bag.  But there was this one good cookie recipe I wanted to try, so I was trying it out for the Goob's class fundraiser bake sale.  And I may have eaten some raw cookie dough.  And I had a headache the size of a brain aneurysm and a slightly upset stomach.
Enter the STP who had fallen through the ice into the freezing ice water. With all his frozen clothes.  And his frozen fish.  And by the time he got home, I was almost too sick to care.  Too close to death myself to realize how close to death he had been.  So when the friend who pulled the STP out of the lake stopped by to see if he was okay, I graciously thanked him with a plate of chewy cherry chocolate chunk cookies.  I should probably mention that two years ago I had taken this man's first born son up on the mountain and involved him in a four wheeler accident that I still have parent guilt over, so now the STP and I are both in deep with this guy.  I almost killed your son and you saved my husband's life--how about half a dozen of Martha Stewart's February cookies?  I think I will have to offer him my first born son instead. 
This actually solves a problem the STP and I have been working on for over a year.  Our Last Will and Testament.  Our Current (Last) Will was crafted when we had three little girls.  I'm not sure who gets the kids, but I'm sure they did not even imagine the Goob when they agreed to take our kids in the unlikely case of the STP and I dying the same week.  They do not know how close we came this week.
My headache stayed for three days and my slightly upset stomach developed into an involuntary colon cleanse.  It was not a 'good thing'.   But while I was like Martha Stewart and the STP was like Jimmy Stewart (in It's A Wonderful Life) we both survived. 
But aren't you kind of curious if you're in our will?