Today at Casa Mir: Thrills! Chills! Fever! Hot, aching, undeniably and painfully infected boobage! And the whole time, me sitting here saying to my body, “Um, HELLO, did you not think this would’ve been a useful stance to take YESTERDAY, so that it would’ve been clear to EVERYONE that I had an infection? No? It made more sense to start with this crap AFTER I’d started antibiotics and should be feeling BETTER?”
So, um, still waiting to feel better. In fact, I cannot admit how early this entry was written due to my need to get to bed early after a strenuous day of napping, so I’ll just set it to publish later. I most certainly did NOT go to bed at 8:30. Nope.
And let me tell you, I am a laugh riot when I’m under the weather. Yes. I curled up on the couch and let the children (who are apparently NEVER going to school again, thank you so much for an “in-service” holiday FOLLOWING a holiday, oh school administration which has never had a hot aching boob before!) use me as a jungle gym while they watched cartoons and ground muffins into the carpet.
“Mama, can we eat chocolate?” Sure!
“Mama, can we watch porn?” Okay!
“Mama, can we prance around naked, snorting cocaine and setting things on fire?” Well, that depends. Can I lay here with a heating pad on my chest and sleep while you’re doing it? Yes? Alrighty then!
I got up now and then, but if I’d had a special Magic Eight Ball on hand for myself today, it would’ve said “OUTLOOK USELESS.” I may have done some work. Or I may have just mailed a client and said, “Ouchie boob yucky sick talk later.” I don’t remember. Also I endured a panoply (motto: nearly rhymes with monopoly!) of endearing terms thrown my way by well-meaning folks who find my predicament moniker-worthy. While BOOBSNOT seems to have reigned supreme in the comments on the previous entry, I regret to inform you all that Joshilyn WINS AT GROSSNESS with her apt crowning of my current condition as BOOBPUSAPALOOZA.
Sure, other things happened, too. Like, I would get up and go wander around the kitchen and eventually decide that 5 Advil and 2 Cheez-Its would make a good lunch. (For ME, of course. The kids had… ummm… something else. That I fed them. I think. I’m sure I would remember if I forgot to feed them lunch.)
Also I distinctly remember saying “WE DO NOT STORE POKEMON FIGURES IN OUR BUTT CRACKS.” I like to adopt the third person, royal WE approach when making such declarations. I think it makes me sound more authoritative, don’t you?
Some other stuff happened today. I think. Look; what do you want from me? Notice I’m not telling you about the warm compresses or what they wrought. Just shut up and be grateful. I’m trying, here.
I’m feeling extremely nervous about the fact that with two days in a row of posts about BOOBPUSAPALOOZA, the first thing I see when I pull up your blog is a google ad saying “giving away free samples”.
We don’t HAVE to take the free samples in order to stop by and visit, right? RIGHT?
Feel better soon, Mir.
ROFL!! @ the pokemon storeage issues… reminds me of the time I had to explain to my son that his underware was NOT the place to hold his animal crackers while he was… OK I don’t remember what he was doing, but he was doing it whilst animal crackers were falling out of his winnie the pooh undies.
poor poor mir. it’s gross, and yet you still let us laugh with you. that is talent! my dear…talent i say!
Poor Mir! Get better soon. (Although thanks for the laugh, especially Joshilyn’s Boobpusapalooza.) Ah, boobs, pus, patches – ain’t it great being a woman?
(And thank you SO MUCH for the sweet nothings you whispered in my ear over on Mommybloggers!)
The blogad I see sayd “Unearth Your Talent”
I’d say mission accomplished…
Dr. Google has offered a 2nd opinion: you now have dengue fever.
I think I can lay my hands on some udder balm if you think it will help.
I hope you are feeling better.
Talent, indeed! I hope you are feeling better today.
Argh a hideous predicament, and yet you still find time to humerous, and we must expect it, because here we all are laughing at butt crack jokes with you.
Joss has the most interesting and inventive way with words…
Animal crackers and Winnie the Pooh…it made perfect sense to him…be thankful he didn’t get into the honey
BOOBPUSAPALOOZA! *dies laughing*
Poor you! I had a boobie infection once. It was when I was determined to only breastfeed my first child. My nipples were cracked, sore, bloody, oozing, my boobies were rock hard, and I cried in pain the entire time I fed my screaming baby every two hours for what seemed like days. It was awful. Hope you feel better soon.
I have been gone for a while and I come back to oozing boobs! First thought was…lactation??!! Oh wait…hormone therapy…YIPES…infection. Nothing like having a boob a fire. Take good care.
Oh no! Stupid boob! Feel better!
You poor thing! I feel horrible laughing at your prediciment, but I can’t stop (BOOBPUSAPALOOZA). :) Hope you feel better soon.
I have only one thing to say.* Ouch!
Oh, get better soon, huh?
Boobapalooza! Mwa! Hope it doesn’t hurt when you laugh.
*One thing? One? One? I’ve never been able to say only one thing in my life…
You know how a guy will cross his legs and make a horrible wincing face when another guy talks about his vasectomy?
Yeah, so I’m making that face and clutching my boobs.
I feel your pain, sistah. Almost literally.
This afternoon, my three-year-old said, ‘Look! I have a banana! I think I’ll put it in my pants.’ And I found myself saying, OUT LOUD, ‘We don’t keep fruit in our underwear.’
So sorry about the boob.