Happy Friday you guys!
Well happy for me, because my back and I made up and are friends again. Oh, I didn’t tell you that we got into it? Yeah. Now I have to tell you all about it. You shouldn’t have asked. You didn’t? Well, I’m pretending you did.
So a few days ago, I was all nice and cozy in my bed and I didn’t want to get up. Honestly, I never want to get up, but I have to do parenting and wifelike stuff, so I have to. But on this particular day, my Back didn’t want to get up either.
“We don’t have a choice.” I was nice at first.
“Listen, if you get up, you’ll be making a mistake.” Back tried to warn me. I took this warning lightly, thinking (foolishly) that I was the master of my body. Oh, how quickly I forgot about the Great Bean Dip Catastrophe.
“Look, Back, I have things to do. Get your stuff together and let’s go.”
I climbed out of bed and immediately bent double in pain. “What the green beans are you doing, Back?”
“I warned you. I’m fed up. You don’t exercise, I have to carry around those huge boobs all day–”
“Yeah!” came a tiny voice. “Shut up, shoulders,” I said.
Back continued, “And when I try to tell you that today is not a good day, you ignore me. I’m going on vacation.”
“Wait, whaaa? No, you can’t! Who’s going to replace you?”
“Oh, my friend Spasm.”
“Not Spasm. Anyone but Spasm. Please. I’ll change, I promise. I hate Spasm and Spasm hates me. I’m begging you—aaaauuugh!” Too late. Spasm had arrived. Time to fight.
So I hobble to the shower, thinking about how much Spasm hates warm water. Also, Nose hates it when I stink, so, two birds and all.
At first, it worked. Yes! Me:1 Spasm: aaaauuugh—shouldn’t have bent down to get that towel. So, Spasm:1.
When I tried to go downstairs, I was already cranky. Stupid Back. Then everyone wants to ask questions like “Are you okay?”or, “What’s wrong?” like they cared. So I gave the answer guaranteed to make everyone leave me alone: “Cramps”. Clears the room every time.
Spasm was starting to get really mean, though. I could barely walk. I tried stretching. Spasm laughed and then attacked me with what I am positive were lightening bolts. This was getting out of hand. I headed to Urgent Care.
Now, anyone who has ever been to Urgent Care knows that it should be called Care Four Hours From Now. So I’m sitting up in there with Spasm just going to town and not caring about my feeling at all for hours. But then.
The Dr. Comes in and she says the magic words: Muscle Relaxer. Awww, yeah.
An hour later, the pill kicks in and I’m all, “Take that, something about something, ZZZZZZ” Ah, sweet, sweet incoherence. Of course, this is when Back decided to return and act right. I can’t win.
So anyway, that’s the super interesting thing that has been going on with me. Oh, and The Destroyer made Honor Roll. Which gives me hope that he won’t be a vagabond.