Today hasn't been the greatest day for me so I'm having a hard time finding something to make fun of.
I suppose I could poke fun at the hard working roofers across the street at our neighbor's home, but it got over 100° again and quite honestly I'm fairly amazed I didn't see them taking turns slip sliding down the steep grade of her house in a desperate attempt to find some moving air of any kind. Although I suppose trying to create waterslides on the roof wouldn't be overly effective when the water boils into steam on contact...
I could try to squeeze a little giggle out of the fact that I made Sarah put her movie in upstairs so it wouldn't disturb my stitching downstairs, and then found myself staring at the closing credits of said movie 90 minutes later while Lea happily burrowed into my cross stitching thread and shed all over my project.
Or I could mention how Steve called me on his way home like he always does, then my Dad called me, and I managed to hang up on BOTH of them while trying to answer the calls. Twice. I swear that blasted phone snickered at me while I sheepishly called each of them back and tried to explain that I really wasn't a complete moron.
Then there was my doctor's appointment to draw a skin sample for a biopsy. After the "little bee sting" prick of the needle and the lovely sensation of Lidocaine systematically searing any and all unfortunate nerve endings within reach to a burned out husk, I was in the oh-so-dignified position of lying flat on my back with a less than flattering portion of my body being sliced into while my doctor did her best to help me feel a little less like a test subject in a mad scientist's laboratory.
That wasn't nearly as entertaining as it was to discover, after I was already driving home, that apparently I don't react to Lidocaine like most people are supposed to. I spent the entire 30 min drive home praying that everyone else on the road was also suffering a delay between their brain issuing a command and their body getting around to recognizing and following through on said command. My children were a smidgeon alarmed when I came through the door, shuffled straight to my bed, and collapsed face first into my pillow.
At least, they were alarmed enough to follow me into my room, stare at me for a second, take turns poking at me until I growled at them, and then go back into the livingroom to finish watching their show.
Like I said... Today just hasn't offered up much to muse about.