Take Two Hemorrhoids and Call me in the Morning

Sunday, the Fall Cleaning bug bit me, and in a moment of weakness, I decided to clean Seth's room.

"Need any help, babe?" John asked, never taking his eyes off the football game on television.

If I say yes, he'll just keep peeping around the corner into the living room at the game; he won't be focused on what we're doing, I thought. "No that's fine. I got it covered." Armed with an arsenal of cleaning supplies, I journeyed into Seth's bedroom and prepared to attack my first enemy, the bed. There are stories of brave peanut butter sandwiches and school papers journeying into the void underneath the bed, never seen again.

I dropped to my knees, and as cautious as a cat, lifted the royal-blue colored dust ruffle and stared at the hodge podge of cars, blocks, and other toys strewn recklessly about. Looks like a toy factory exploded under here.
The only way to really get rid of all the junk under here is to move the bed. Yeah right; famous last words of a fool. As I lifted the heavy oak frame, an excruciating pain, almost as bad as labor pains, shot through my lower back, taking my breath away.

As gently as I could, given the circumstances, I lowered the bed and hobbled to the couch in the living room. "Are you in pain?" John asked innocently.

"No, I just walk this way naturally, of course I'm in pain!" I spent the rest of the day propped up by pillows on the couch while my sweet hubby took care of me.

That was two days ago, and this morning I was still so sore I could hardly move. "Hey Mom," Seth asked, looking in the fridge, "could you find the butter in the fridge for me?"

Grumbling, I sat my coffee cup down on the kitchen counter and knelt, my knees popping like a bowl of Rice Krispies, in front of the fridge. "Oh crap, my back hurts," I moaned.

"Why don't you get a doctor to give you a couple of hemorrhoids to take so you'll feel better?" Seth asked.

Surely he didn't say what I think he said. "What? "Repeat that again."

"Hemorrhoids; you know, what the body builders use." Seth repeated impatiently.

"No baby, that's steroids, not hemorrhoids!" I sat on the floor and laughed till tears poured out of my eyes and my sides ached. As Seth helped me up, I noticed my back was feeling better. I guess the old saying is right, "laughter is the best medicine."