I had quite the weekend. On Saturday afternoon, I was on the landing of the stairs from the main floor to the top floor and our 2004 (read: older, bigger, heavier) Dyson vacuum cleaner was on the top floor. I was on my hands and knees, cleaning, when the Dyson fell down the stairs and slammed into the top of my head. I don't know how my head did not receive a laceration because the part that hit me was as close to "sharp" as you can get. The reason I know what part of the vacuum hit me is because the impact caused it to break off. It scared the bejesus out of me, hurt like Hell and I cried for an hour (all the while continuing to clean. This is a huge breakthrough because I HATE to clean but have recently found a new system that seems to be working. I don't want to jinx myself by blogging about it, so stay tuned…). Then the hubs and B came home and I flew into the hubs' arms and started sobbing as he repeatedly asked me, "Why didn't you call me so we could come home?" and picked through my hair in search of blood.
After my housework, the hubs and I went outside to do some yard work while B and his "brotha from anotha motha" (B's words, not mine! What the Hell were the hubs and B watching/doing during my stint as a WOHM at nights?!) played in the street. (Don't worry, we live on a dead end street with no traffic except for the residents, who expect kids and parties in the street because it is nicely shaded.) Anywho, during this yard work, I managed to crack myself in the forehead with a rake handle and whack myself in the left ear with a broom handle hard enough that I have 2 red lumps that hurt like Hell (the vacuum and the broom left painful lumps; luckily, the rake did not and I am good with that). Luckily, I had a mom's night out planned with one of my fav girlfriends last night. The restaurant she picked served awesome food, cheap drinks and we had a great time.
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