I get headaches. Migraine headaches. When they storm in everything stops. Rather, I wish everything would stop. Asking, begging 5 kids to be quiet usually falls on deaf ears. I can’t blame them, everything is much more fun when it’s turned up to 11.
“I have a headache” comes out of my mouth more times that I would like to admit. Never used an excuse but I am sure it could be seen as that. James thinks I should have my head looked at a little more closely. I think my head is already a pretty scary place.
What really doesn’t help: reading PS, I Love You. The main character’s husband dies of a brain tumor. Don’t worry, I am not spoiling anything, the dude is dead before the book even begins.
So, I am going to go on ignoring whatever the hell is going on with my head and buy stock in Tylenol and the makers of Imitrex. Also, I am wondering how long this headache will last. James made a couple of wishes on his birthday a few days ago and I am sure they all had to do with sex acts. Don’t even go there telling me that orgasms will cure headaches. I fell for that one already.
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