I stayed off the crutches most of the day today, because I really didn't have many options, given that it was a school day and I have three little ones at home. I am in significantly more pain than I have been, since the first few hours after the sprain. If someone brings me a bottle of Jack, I will allow them to amputate.
Mothers everywhere, please take heed. If you find a plate in the microwave, and you would just swear it had been there for *hours* and you listen to your children when they tell you that it hasn't been that long at all? They are trying to kill you. You will eventually remember that it was for lunch (around noon) and that it is potentially lethal at 7:00 p.m. 7,000 trips to the bathroom in the middle of the night, on a sprained ankle, will completely rob you of your will to live. Your children knew this of course, but, they heard rumors about your life insurance.
A combination of spoiled food and painkillers create 'bad acid trip' dreams.
If you have a splint on your ankle, your three year old will swear it resembles a saddle. He will jump on it and demand to "giddy-up horsey," he will be fooled into thinking you are granting his wish, when your entire body starts convulsing and jerking in response to the pain.
When your daughter's BFF stops by the house to ask her to be the Vice President of her Justin Bieber Fan Club? Then you will be able to identify *exactly* why you aren't fond of her. Also, you will begin to feel secretly glad when your oldest son declares him to be, "like SO lame."
My Mountain Dew fix is up to 3-4 cans a day, that is exempted from my coffee cup count. Someone please slip some caffeine into an epi-pen and send it my way.