I wanted to report on the fabulous way we decided to spend the money that Brad won on Friday. We thought long and hard about it and this is what we came up with-how 'bout we head to the local doc-in-the-box and give it directly to them? $90 in copays to reveal three children with bronchitis and one with the added bonus of an ear infection and then another $94 on prescriptions to cure such sickly children. SERIOUSLY.
As if that weren't enough, when I got back home after three hours at the doctor I was carrying Sienna up the stairs and I fell, UP THE STAIRS, and broke my finger. At least I think it's broken. I don't know for sure since I refuse to go back to the doctor and hock over what's left of my Christmas money. Oh, and which finger? you may be asking yourself. The MIDDLE finger on my right hand so it looks like I'm flipping everyone off around the clock. Not exactly how I wanted to spread my holiday cheer. I think I would laugh more at the whole situation if it didn't hurt so stinkin' bad. I bought myself a splint, read up on how to treat the stupid thing on brokenfinger.com and am popping the Aleve. Better than another copay.
And here's the real clincher. If I was a highly evolved, enlightened person, I would know to be grateful for the money Brad starved for and realize that without it, we really would be hosed for Christmas. But I'm not. I'm bitter and annoyed and ticked. Look's like I'll be the one with coal in my stocking.