True story. Greedy Kid #3 called me a Cowgirl. “Mom, you’re a cowgirl,” he says to me. “You have the body of a girl and the head of a cow.”
…what-da??
say it ain’t so
…and now on to the injury: I slammed my hand in the car door yesterday. The processing chip in my brain was apparently too slow at telling my hand to get outta the way. My only thought after the first wave of pain subsided was, “How am I going to do burpees with a smashed hand?”
Is this normal thinking?
Technically, my hand isn’t smashed to smithereens. I just feels that way. Makes blog-typing difficult at the moment. This calls for an overdose of couch-azzing while TV-watching. Care to join me in spirit? We’ll have a virtual lazy-moment together.
This is your favorite Cowgirl — signing off, until next time.
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