Y'all. this ain't fair! I was downstairs in my man cave when I started hurting, so my gift-from-God, happily-ever-after trophy wife Vanessa Patterson, the elegant, foxy, praying black grandmother of Woodstock, GA, decided to move me upstairs to the bedroom, where there is air conditioning. She helped me carry stuff upstairs, specifically, she carried my pinto beans and corn bread. I grabbed the laptop & keyboard and WIRED mouse, and then she made a return trip to get my water and medicine.
SO: I set the laptop down on our twin recliner (where I sleep), and then sat down on the bed (where she sleeps & me too when I can), only to discover that my pants were on fire.
Not really, but it felt like it. She had set my pinto beans and corn bread on the BED!!! and I SAT in the PINTO BEANS!!! And it was HOT!!! And then she LAUGHED at me as I'm ripping off my boxers to separate my pristine flesh from boiling pinto bean juice!!!
See, I don't really object to having my rear end scalded so much as I do having to eat the corn bread without pinto bean broth. It was good cornbread, though. And there is more pinto beans, but she wouldn't bring me any because ....well, I don't know WHY she wouldn't bring me any. She said it was because I couldn't be trusted with food, but I think she just forgot.
I'm gonna eat pinto beans and eggs and corn bread for breakfast, though.