Y'all, I just feel plain ol' bad. Plain ol' feel bad? Either way. . .
I've got a little nest here on the couch, and don't leave it any more than I have to. Instacart has delivered ginger ale and tea and soup and bananas and ice cream and chips/crackers. Ninety-eight percent of the time, when I have a sore throat, I want scratchy things. (When I had my tonsils out, I made Dale stop by a Mexican place for chips and cheese dip on our way home from the hospital.) Right now, though, ice cream is hitting the spot more than usual.
1 comment:
Feel better soon!
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