Cow Sauce

expletive? What I should have yelled at my son when he hurled himself on my back as I bent over to tie my shoe last week? I have been telling him for weeks that he must stop jumping on me, that he WILL hurt me. He chose not to stop, and he put his mother out of commission for three days.

I went to the chiropractor on Friday. I told him my back hurt from the mid-to lower back, wrapping around to the front, near my hip.

He proceeded to refer to the area as the "left flank".

I refrained from mooing, chopping onions and peppers, or surrounding bad guys. ( you know, like "flanking the enemy".) for the remainder of the weekend, though I plan to resume these acitivities early in the week.

My side being referred to as a flank just made me crazy, like mad-cow crazy. Or was that the PMS talking? It was probably the PMS, but seriously, my FLANK was hurting and all I wanted to do was either moo at him, or cry. Fortunately my face was buried in the crevice of the head-pads on the adjustment table and he wouldn't have been able to discern either noise from the other, not that he would have noticed. (I have never had anybody talk that much or that fast for that amount of time and still be able to get their work done, but by golly I felt better when I left.)

So I spent my weekend nursing my flank, avoiding cow sauce and bending over and I *think* I feel better. Or is that the Ibuprofen speaking.