My face is broken out worse than the 16 year-old version of me pre-accutane (I'm thinking this has to do with all of the iron coursing through my veins).
Strip slipped and fell on our tiled bathroom floor, resulting in a giant goose-egg bruise on her forehead.
Hubs spent the morning in a screaming matching with Nugget and the clippers attempting to cut his hair (the last phrase uttered before I went downstairs sounded something like, "This is why you pay someone else to do this..."). Nugget now looks like he's going to enlist in the army, but he still is rocking the crazy, Alfalfa-like cowlick.
What could cause these forces of nature to collide in the same weekend?
Ahhh! It's picture day for the church directory.
Say, "photo shop!"
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