I recently read Courtney Summer’s THIS IS NOT A TEST. If you haven’t read it, you must. It’s one of my favorite books of 2012, and possibly my favorite book ever. Not even kidding. After reading the final page of this heart-stopping story, I turned to my husband:

“If there were a zombie apocalypse, and you croaked, I need to know where I should go.”

He puts his iPad down and looks at me. “Are these throw-back zombies or modern-day?”

*For the record, this is why I heart my hubby. Because he entertains my lunatic-like line of questioning without hesitation*

“What’s the difference?” I ask.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “Throw-back zombies shuffle, modern-day ones are all fast and shit.”

“Oh.” I think about what he’s saying. He’s so smart. Also, I like the shirt he has on. Did I buy it for him? “Let’s say they’re modern-day zombies to be safe.”

“Okay,” he says. “You should find someone to take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

He gives me a look that says he doesn’t trust me to water the grass…which I could totally do. If I remembered. If there was a chart or something on the fridge.

“You should find someone,” he repeats.


He stuffs pillows behind his back. This is good. This means I’m going to get his undivided attention. I am pleased.

“This person should be fast,” I say. “To outrun the zombies.”

My husband nods.

“And he/she should be able to carry a grown man,” I add.

“He. It’d be a he then.”

I roll my eyes, deciding I won’t argue this point, even though my aerobics instructor could totally carry a grown man. “He should be a born leader,” I say. “Because when those zombies are banging on the doors, I’m going to need someone to instill courage in me.”

He nods, agreeing with this. “He also needs to be scary. Like, if it comes down to it he needs to be able to hulk-out and hack into some zombies like it’s nothing.”

“And smart too. He should be smart,” I say. When Husband doesn’t add anything else, I say, “Okay, so our list is as follows: Someone who is fast, who can carry a grown man, who can encourage his troops, who’s smart, and finally, someone who will hulk-out if necessary.”

My husband thinks to himself.

“Ray Lewis,” he announces.


“Football player.”

“Is he fast?” I ask.

“God, yeah.”

“Can he carry–”

“Yes, he can carry you. And a grown man too, though I’m not sure why you’re so concerned about this grown man. Who is this grown man? I’m already dead, right?”

I ignore his question. “Is he a leader?”

“On a scale of one-to-ten, he’s a ten.”


My husband flips his hand side to side. “Meh. I mean, he went to college. But it was on a scholarship so who knows.”

“Let’s assume he is,” I say. “Can he hulk-out?”

“He was indicted for murder.”


My husband looks at me. “Don’t worry about that last part. Just know when the zombies come, you should find Ray Lewis. Tell him I sent you.”

“Do you know him?”

He sighs. “Are you going to remember his name?”

“Yeah, sure. Football player.”

“You should write this down. Put it on your website or something.”


So there it is. Ray Lewis is my go-to  guy when the zombies come knocking. Who will YOU turn to?!