This Thanksgiving, I broke my #1 rule about Thanksgiving and invited family members. Specifically, my in-laws. And that set off a horrible chain of events that included:
1) the turkey, while beautiful and lovely on the outside, was completely raw and disgusting on the inside,
2) I totally forgot to get out the cranberry relish from the refrigerator,
3) Ditto on the pheasant and wild rice,
4) Spanxy at some point french-kissed my ear in front of her mother-in-law,
5) I completely and thoroughly lost my voice, and eventually wound up with a 10 day virus that nearly killed me.
So, not only was I completely a) hungry, but also b) embarrassed and c) dead.
The best thing about nearly dying when there's a lot of company around is that you can pretty much curl up in a chair under a blanket and no one notices. But days later, they all left so I went to the doctor and told them that I was close to death and I could not swallow because my throat felt like I'd swallowed razors and also I was dying and also I think maybe Spanxy gave me Ear Mono that scientifically transferred to my throat, most likely traveling on a sea of mimosas.
They looked at me real sympathetically and gave me a bottle of pills. A bottle of gigantic freaking pills that I couldn't swallow if I didn't have Ear-transferred Mono. Why are these things even made? Lest you think I exaggerate...photo evidence.
Here is the horrible stupid pink pill with a cough drop for comparison. Not a good enough example? Here:
Horrible stupid pink pill with a dime. The dime would be easier to swallow because it's flat.
For my readers South of the Border. I'll admit, horrible stupid pink pill might be easier to swallow than 2 Pesos.
HOWEVER. It would be easier to swallow a Lego sword than the horrible stupid pink pill.
And, possibly, it would be easier to swallow a .38 round than the horrible stupid pink pill. Actually, that might be a tie. I'd sort of be scared to swallow a .38 round, so it might not go down easily.
Most interesting, perhaps, is that all the items I used for comparison were in the pencil drawer of my kitchen. Not sure what that says about me, exactly. Huh.
Anyway - besides they horrible stupid pink pill, they also gave me some meth, so that was kind of cool. I didn't figure insurance would cover that kind of thing.
I'm all better now. Obviously.