I cut my finger rather severely this week by ���accident���. Now I type that sarcastically because I think the Ikea frame I cut my finger on viciously attacked me. I can't be certain but I think our bed has enlisted help in our battle. Judge for yourself with this completely unbiased dramatic reenactment:
So my typing skills have been reduced and I���ve had trouble with other daily tasks as well. Most notably doing the dishes and washing my hair. Jeremy has graciously allowed me to let the dishes pile up but I demanded help washing my luscious locks.
I very soon regretted it. When I had shampoo in my mouth and water pouring down my back and pooling in my ass crack. But at least he tried. He just didn���t need to enjoy my discomfort quite so much���