When I worked in radio, I would go to promotions and have listeners do the silliest things.

One game I played would be the “Guess Your Age” game, and instead of just coming right out and guessing ages, I would make it a show. I’d have people lift their arms, bark like a dog, go in circle after circle after circle, and even shake their bon bon.

But nothing tops what I did with the boy today….

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Before I decided to tackle the challenge of playing substitute mommy, the following thoughts went through my head:

1. i dont really like kids
2. i like to sleep in really late
3. i hate cleaning up after myself and i really hate cleaning up after someone else

So far, I’ve just reaffirmed my original thoughts. Personally, I wonder why kids like me and why the heck someone would trust me to take care of them. Maybe it’s cause my boobs are so big. Motherly, or something. I don’t know. You can see the daily damage here or you can just fill in your own blanks. Trust me, the pictures are more fun.

I woke up yesterday to this piercing Charlie horse in my left leg. Then I got one in my right arm.

So I go and drink lots and lots of water yesterday while I was at work. I do NOT want that happening again.

Today it was my right calf.

And it still hurts.

Like there’s some small woodland creature nibbling away at the muscle.