Last night I had the best intentions to post my version of
PW's Cajun Chicken Pasta (with smoked sausage!).
But...I didn't get any further than
this token photo:
Though I am an amazing multi-tasker...taking pictures of each
step while cooking is not something I've mastered.
Maybe I need a helmet-cam.
Or a staff photographer.
Or an in-house chef.
Or maybe I should just give up this pipe-dream altogether.
So, unrelated to all that, I resolved that we would stay home from
church after that.
I just couldn't bring myself to make the long-haul into town.
Instead, we just stayed home and played.
And worked out.
And just chilled.
Then fast-forward to 1:30 AM.
I woke up to K-Man burning up with a fever.
I asked him when he had taken ibuprofen last....
and he said 12:30.
Me, being the dimly-lit-bulb that I am,
thought he meant 12:30, as in, LUNCH TIME.
I jumped out of bed and told him I was getting him some to take right away.
He unquestionably swallowed all four tablets.
"What was it you just gave me??"
"Honey, I gave you ibuprofen."
To which he said,
"Oh, yeah...I just took some an hour ago."
Why don't I use my brain, why??
Oh my word!
I then lay there in bed praying that his liver would be spared.
And that the authorities would believe me that I
accidentally overdosed him.
I'm applying to nursing school as soon as I get the chance.