Saturday, August 23, 2008

When the cats are away. . .

The wounds on my arms will eventually heal.
Had a crazy week that started brutally scary (ball bleeding - is there any two words in the English language more terrifying?) and ended relieved (doc's advice: stop jabbing your balls with thumbtacks)

While I was in the doctor's office for some blood work, he noticed all these bite marks on my arm. He asked, "Do you normally get lesions like this on your skin?"
"Oh, those are just cat bites."
Then he gave me this look. . . I don't know how to explain it. It wasn't the "I am a doctor and therefore more significant than you and all of your offspring ever" which is common in doctors, but more of a "Cha-ching! This guy's going to pay for my kids' college careers with his infected arms!"

So I've got that going for me.


Andrea's off to Ohio for the weekend. She came back home from New York thursday night and left friday morning. Just enough time to make sweet love and cook me breakfast.
And now the weekend is my own.

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