...that Jesus hates me. On November 19th, I slipped on a Maraschino cherry in the kitchen and shattered my ankle. I have been horribly depressed. I haven't felt like sharing lately. Sorry to all of my faithful acolytes.
One free guess where the offending accoutrement came from. "Oops," right Mom?
1 comment:
Owww!
Bring it to Papa, he kiss the cast and make it feel better, Babee!
Just send me a message in a bottle. (And stay away from Maraschino cherrys. Yo!
HBM
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