Saturday Night Treats!!

I don't know if I've mentioned this recently but I have a poorly leg. Just in case you were wondering why I've posted a picture of my legs...that's why. Also, it's hard to see in this picture, when I took this picture my left leg was pretty swollen, the toes were about twice the size of my good leg, and one shade down from my bright red cast. (The 4th in a series of casts with a disappointing lack of dinosaur print)

I probably should have made sure my feet were next to eachother.

So, to cheer my up for my enormous foot, insane amounts of pain, and...well, just because it was Saturday, Josh bought some mad stuff for Saturday Night Treats.

That's right, that is a milk carton full of red juice.

I should probably explain what Saturday Night Treats is. We watch an old episode of Saturday Night Live and usually buy 1 type of treat to have with it. Recently we've been getting more and more treats to make up for the fact I can't have wine with my codeine. So we get a ton of sugar and get silly.

We find our limit last night. We had way too much sugar and we're agreed that the most we can handle is 1 type of sugary drink and 2 types of sickly food stuff. I'm still coming down from my sugar high. Even when we'd consumed so much sugar our sexy tum tums were making not so sexy noises, and our mouths were dry from only having sugar in them for as long as they could remember we kept right on eating. And drinking.

We were determined to get silly. So silly we got! A particular high point was finding an owl in with the strawbs. I was so freaking excited I started hooting like an owl. Then I started looking for a mouse to hunt and eat but with limited movement it meant looking around the sofa bed an giving up.

The owl didn't even taste of strawberries. I couldn't tell if it was raspberry or cola.

We rounded off the evening by watching various comedy shows and complaining about our full bellies. I also made triangles out or our wrappers and Josh tried to make them say words. As you can see I was much better at my job than he was at his.

What does that even say? oOor? Str?

Join us next time on Tales of the Mundane.