I stayed buried in my little house today. I shouldn’t have, it makes me all anxious and stir-crazy. But I couldn’t find a reason to get out. So instead I called The Funasaurus to harass him at work. I took a nap. I practiced my grande jettes across our living room. Then I had to work until 9:30 (with a time-out for the debates, which left me, once again, underwhelmed) because I was so behind.
Tomorrow I am getting out of the house. More than once. Even if it means walking around the block.
I am also going to do the laundry, because The Funasaurus came home from volleyball sporting a blister on his foot the size of Canada, and I am cringing in fear of the potential bodily-fluids-geyser that could erupt in our bed at any time.
I just gagged a little.
Trying to think of kittens and cupcakes and rainbows covered in kitten shaped cupcakes. Sending the goo (ACK! GOO! YEEEEECH!) your way. Oh well. I almost made it.
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4 comments:
I think that blister rates a photo!
ugh no way! nasty! no photo! haha
If you post a photo, I will most definitely be sick all over my computer and then I will send the Funosaurus the bill for any necessary repairs and quite possibly sue for pain and suffering. Just saying! ;)
I vote no on the blister, too. More because it would show feet, and feet are icky.
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