There really isn’t anything more ridiculous than having a head cold in the middle of a sweltering summer.
But because I live in a Perpetual State of Ridiculousness, I managed to catch a cold in July. Even more ridiculous is that both Patrick and I caught it together and are suffering together.
WARNING: DO NOT ENTER MESSY HOUSE. SNOTTY TISSUES ARE RIDICULOUSLY STREWN ABOUT AND BEHIND-THE-COUNTER MEDICATIONS ARE BEING TIMED TO THE MINUTE.
We both woke up Saturday morning at my parent’s house with a this tickle in my throat and general feeling of aches and pains better just be my imagination and definitely NOT a summer cold feeling. My mom loaded us up with her keep-away-the-cold vitamin cocktail, and we prayed to the Swaddled Baby Jeesus that we were not actually getting an actual ridiculous summer cold.
And then we woke up yesterday, Sunday morning, both of us having slept ridiculously restlessly with tissues stuffed up our noses (or maybe that was just me), not looking forward to the ridiculous 6-hour drive back home after our week at Gramma’s.
We rolled out of bed after 9am, stumbling to find our behind-the-counter, real-thing, 24-hour Sudafed. After ridiculously stuffing our face holes full of my mom’s World Famous Homemade Biscuits & Gravy, we packed up the car with ice cold water, soda, and juice boxes, ridiculously insistent that we could make it home as long as we had a box full of commandeered tissues.
Packed into the T&C Turbo, we headed out with Patrick behind the wheel. (NOTE: I offered to split the driving time with him, but he ridiculously mumbled something about not wanting to see a blog post about him having a Man Cold, so he drove the whole 6+ hours. No complaints from me because I got to sit back and read the very un-smutty, Gone Girl.)
Approximately 13 ridiculous minutes into the trip, I felt the tell-tale sign of my brain leaking, so I reached for the tissues I stole from my mom.
…only to find that I forgot the ridiculously stolen tissue box.
Racking my ridiculously clogged brain, I couldn’t remember where in the house I had forgotten them.
Until my mom sent me this picture:
I’d left them in the Beer Fridge when I was stealing water, Coke, and juice boxes.
Because, of course, on-top-of-the-beer-box is a ridiculously good place to put the tissues I need for the ridiculous 6+ hour car ride home.