Yesterday almost all day, I had a tickle in my throat. You know, the kind that makes you want to continuously make that "ehkkkkk" noise to dislodge whatever is tickling you? I finally figured it out around 3:00 when I looked in the mirror at work. There was a thing on my tonsil. It looked like a chicken pock. (also, is that the singular of pox?) I blamed Scott, and went back to drinking a record amount of water.
And then I sneezed.
Something flew out of my mouth and into my elbow pit. It was a piece of oatmeal. That's right, I spent about 8 hours with a cooked oat crusted onto my throat.
Not my finest hour(s).
At least it wasn't a raisin!
Post title inspired by the poem Sick, by Shel Silverstein
1 comment:
when I was a kid, Aunt Edna had a tiny piece of matzo cracker stuck to her tonsil ... from taking communion! We drove up to visit John & Toni in Sumneytown that day, and she was stuck with that thing!
Funny thing though, I mentioned this to her after we were grown up, and she doesn't remember the incident! Only I do! LOL But it really happened!
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