I am an idjit

I have chicken noodle soup in my hair. Yup.

Sometimes my idiocy is so profound I’m surprised that I haven’t decapitated myself. I am a constant Three Stooges reel, pratfalling, injuring myself, spilling & breaking things. Anyway..the soup. Yes.

I was just trying to get a soup label off a half-empty open can of Progresso Soup. ‘Cause it’s all about the Box Top labels, y’know. So…what careful & thoughtful method did I use? I picked up the closest implement – a screwdriver. Phillips if you’re wondering. I ran that sucker down the outside of the can, thinking it would just tear through the paper. Of course, I forgot about the bumpy outside of a tin can. Ran that puppy down & it smacked off the bottom of the can & soup flew out the top, landing in my hair, on my shirt, the floor & counter. I am the dork. It would be mildly amusing if it were an aberration, but this is the kind of brain-surgeon crap I pull daily.

Henry & I are still sick. STILL sick. Yuck. I’m really really tired of this. I can’t breathe through my nose, so I have that constant slimy cottonmouthy thing going on & my mouth tastes horrifying. Plus my lungs hurt. I suppose we’ll go back to the doctor tomorrow.

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