"My wife is very small. Tiny!"

My sister, Elia, brother-in-law, Michele, and nephew, Leone, arrived from Italy yesterday around 4. Leone had a crummy respiratory thing and was coughing to beat sixty. El had forgotten his inhaler spacer on the airplane, so we cobbled one together until this morning.

I can't really imagine why one needs a prescription for a plastic tube, but fortunately, Dad's being a physician means he could call one in. He is a deeply honest man but didn't see the harm in getting this item for his grandson.

"Hello, this is Dr. N, and I need to call in a script for XYZ inhaler spacer."

"Who is the spacer for?"

"It's for my wife."

"Sir, this product is made for children ages 1-5."

"My wife is very small. She's tiny actually." Dad said this with a straight face. 

Mom, Elia, and Michele, overhearing this conversation, were at this point rolling on the floor and howling with laughter. Can you imagine hearing about Dad's tiny wife and, based on a general sense of things, realizing that he was attempting to bluff a pharmacist about a tot-sized plastic tube?

"Sir, who are you actually calling this in for?"

"Well, my grandson. He's Italian."

"I understand. It will be ready shortly."

What does that mean? Is it standard to understand that Italian grandsons regularly have favors called in on their behalf? Maybe she actually just understood that insurance is NUTS and a plastic tube isn't hurting anyone.

My biggest desire is to know precisely how she relayed this conversation to her coworkers when she hung up the phone. Because you KNOW that she recounted the whole exchange immediately upon signing off. 

I refused to go to the pharmacy later when El and Tom went. I couldn't bear the thought of somebody there asking if one of us were the "tiny wife."

We have cracked up repeatedly all day.