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Go ahead, ask me how I am

Dave and I recently made some changes to our life insurance policy after I figured out that it was the WORST POLICY EVER. We actually purchased it as a supplement 10 years ago when I was pregnant with Matthew but now, after some improvements, it has become our primary policy.

Our agent came to the house and had us sign a shitload of papers. She told us we would have to complete a phone interview with the underwriting department and then a nurse would visit us to collect some blood and urine and take our blood pressure.

I was a little worried about having to go through the underwriting process again. On our old policy I was rated preferred and Dave was standard due to the fact that he was still smoking back then. Our agent quoted us based on those same ratings and since we were increasing our coverage quite a bit, I wanted the premiums to stay as low as possible.

I was pleasantly surprised when our agent called us to say our policy was being issued and Dave was now rated preferred and I was SUPER-PREFERRED. She mentioned she rarely ever sees anyone receive that rating so you can imagine how pleased I was.

Dave is getting a teensy bit tired of me rubbing it in. For a while, every time he said, “how are you?” I said, “super, super preferred that is!” Surprisingly he does not find that very amusing. And now might be a good time to mention that if I should die in a fiery car crash, please someone check my brake lines and launch an investigation STAT!

Quite possibly there was a mix-up in the underwriting department or the nurse swapped my vials of pee and blood with someone else’s. I’m not sure how I can be rated better at 41 than I was at 31 when we first took out this crap policy. I’m not complaining, mind you, I’m simply confused.

I was surprised at how low my cholesterol and triglycerides were. Clearly all the red wine I drink is contributing splendidly to my good health. My body is positively awash in anti-oxidants.


Dave is still miffed at the nurse. She recorded his waist measurement at 37 inches even though he wears a 34. He blames his lack of super preferred status on her error. I however love the nurse because her scale weighed me 7 lbs. less than the one in my bathroom and I did not say anything because I am not STUPID.

Dave and I are glad we took the time to make this change to our life insurance. We can both take comfort in the fact that if anything happens to us, the offspring will not have to worry. And if you ask me how I’m feeling these days? The answer is SUPER. SUPER PREFERRED THAT IS.

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