I went to the doctor to make sure I didn’t have strep. He said it wasn’t strep, rubbed my forehead and said, “Poor, poor bunny” and told me to take it easy this weekend.
I liked the cut of his jib. (Lloyd assures me that’s a real saying.) I baked up a Butter Braid from our fall fundraiser, drank six giant cups of Tang Tea, three regular glasses of Tang, took two naps and nearly exploded from all the liquids.
By the way, I ate half of that thing myself.