Whatsa matta you face?

The message machine is winking at me. Beckoning me closer to push it's button. I do and continue to assemble the salad nichole I'm making for dinner. What the..? It's got to be a prank I think as I strain now to understand what the noise that I'm hearing. Is that...yes, that is my hubbies voice. I can tell there is some thing very wrong by the sound of his words. Oh my God- he has to be sick, is he having another anurism? Nooooo, whew. I get it now, my hubby is trying to sing. Possibly the only worse singer on this earth than myself. I barly make out the lyrics, read in what he is trying for in a harmonious manner.  "Don't worry, be happy, wooo, woo..." I guffaw at the visual of him half way across the country, in his office, door locked reading these goofy words and hoping none of the people who work for him can hear. I "just push play" one more time and my laughs soon turn to tears as the fear that I have denied myself lets it's self flow. Sometimes I just don't know what to do with my face.