It's that time of year when the cold bug gets passed around amongst friends and relatives, and an innocent children's birthday party becomes known as ground zero for the Great Plague of 2012. I'm in week 3 of this illness and only just now starting to feel a bit better. The only thing worse than fearing that you're dying of the plague is having a (nearly) broken neck on top of it.
A week ago, Clint and I were getting our son down to sleep, so as usual we were lying on his bedroom floor to pacify him. To pass the time, we played a game of Hanging with Friends (a hangman app) and it was getting very heated. We were text-taunting each other furiously and just as I was about to lose I played a difficult word and said to him "Take that word, douche canoe!" I watched his face as he read the text, anticipating his reaction to the "insult", and the instant he cracked a smile I knew he was going to bust-up laughing, so I hid my face in the crook of my arm in an attempt to suppress my own laughter. We are obviously mature adults. We both laughed in that hushed, breathy, snorty way of the completely deranged for a solid 5 minutes, doing everything in our power to muffle the sounds because our two year old was just barely asleep in the room. We finally managed to dry our eyes and pull ourselves together and Clint decided he needed to leave the room so he could relieve his bladder. Just as he was exiting, his knees cracked like two gunshots, which sent us both back into hysterics, and as I turned away once again to stifle my laughter I pulled something in my neck. Also, we woke the baby. Lose-lose. On the plus side, Clint didn't pee his pants, but that almost happened.
It has taken a full week to recover from my neck sprain (self-diagnosed, but seriously), so I've been a hot mess, what with my injury and the plague.
Other shit.
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