There’s only one thing worse than coal in your stocking and that’s stones in your kidney.
Okay, there’s actually something even worse than that. It’s having kidney stones when your husband has just had wrist surgery and says, “Hey, it’s my hurt time.” Again.
You know how everybody has Christmas traditions? Well, apparently the Hiltons have a tradition that whenever St. Bob gets an injury, I somehow manage to upstage him. And it works any time of year.
Two years ago when he had cancer surgery I promptly dashed across town with sepsis following my first bout with kidney stones. A year ago when he tripped over a high curb and hit his shoulder on a post (the bruise seriously looked like an eggplant)
I then tripped over a vine in the veggie garden and did a face plant in the gravel around our raised beds.
I came staggering into the house, glassy-eyed, looking for ice packs to put over my entire face, using all the frozen veggies I could, which I personally grew and froze, and now needed to put on an injury I got from growing the stuff in the first place, which is a vicious cycle that would make most thinking people quit gardening permanently.
Bob thinks I’m trying to get all the attention, but I think he’s setting up some kind of contagious dark magic force field that causes me to have calamities right on the heels of his.
Now, if only he can keep from getting sick or injured for the rest of the year…
Avoid mishaps entirely, by staying inside and reading my books! In fact, you can get all your Christmas shopping done in one spot. Check ‘em out here.