I woke up this morning feeling great! We went to the Y where I got my sweat on, and then headed over to Sarah and Noah's for a Mardi Gras playdate. Sarah made some yummy jambalaya, had an awesome king cake, and of course, plenty of thunder beads.
No, not those kind of thunder beads. Allow me to explain the term "thunder beads" as it works at Chase Place. Mike and I rented Maid of Honor with Patrick Dempsey one night, where a pair of REAL thunder beads made quite an appearance and impression on the bride's grandmother in the movie. The next day, Sammy was playing with Mardi Gras beads he'd gotten on the SeaWall in Galveston one night back in August.
While I do agree that the beads in question appear a bit "thunder" like in composition, they are, purely, Mardi Gras beads.
Henceforth, all Mardi Gras beads are now termed thunder beads by my 3 year old. So, thank you Mike, for teaching our son the term "thunder beads." I'm the one who gets to explain that one on the playground, Childwatch at the Y, the Sunday School teacher . . . the list goes on.
Where was I? Oh yes, plenty of thunder beads at the Mardi Gras playdate. We headed home, took a nap, and when we woke up, I woke up with a killer sore throat. At first I thought it was because I slept with my mouth open and the fan on (happens to the best of us), but as the afternoon wore on it became quite clear this was something more than a sore throat.
To sum it up, my throat feels like I've been raking knives down it, my entire body hurts (and it's not related to the Deathmill), I've got the chills, and it's all rounded out with a strong 102 degree fever. I don't know where it came from, but it came on quick, and I'm only hoping it will be gone tomorrow. If not, that means I get to navigate going to my doctor's office with two children in tow. Perhaps I will be buying Sammy that Leapster before his birthday after all . . .
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