Sometimes carrying buckets full of rocks isn't the great idea you'd think
Hard to believe, right? And yet I had to learn the lesson the hard way today. On transporting perhaps my fifth bucket of rocks from front yard to back, some sad little muscle in my lower back on the left said "No more" and treated me to a lovely spasm. Thus I found myself having to quit work on TDCB after only one hour.
When Mulch Boy got home from work, he shook his head and gave me a lecture ("You were supposed to be raking dirt!"), then sent me to the showers with orders to swallow a handful of Tylenol. And so now I find myself in my jammies, lying on the couch, all Tylenol'ed up, and listening resentfully to Mulch Boy move rocks from the front yard to the back. In a wheelbarrow. Like a smart person with some common sense.
Funny thing is, I would have put money on HIM being the one to throw out his back! I... win?
When Mulch Boy got home from work, he shook his head and gave me a lecture ("You were supposed to be raking dirt!"), then sent me to the showers with orders to swallow a handful of Tylenol. And so now I find myself in my jammies, lying on the couch, all Tylenol'ed up, and listening resentfully to Mulch Boy move rocks from the front yard to the back. In a wheelbarrow. Like a smart person with some common sense.
Funny thing is, I would have put money on HIM being the one to throw out his back! I... win?
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