My knees are bruised.
I will wait as you make your suggestive innuendos and flap your eyebrows and smirk at the screen like you KNOW why my knees are purple right now.
But you have no clue, now do you???
Because of the yard work.
Yes, we're back on that topic.
Please keep up.
Anyway, my knees still hurt from groveling,ooooops, I mean - GARDENING last Sunday. And -horrors of horrors - I may have to do it again this weekend.
I may, however, have found a way around this. I have asked for a "Romantic Date Night." By asking for such I am guaranteeing myself, my fingers and my hurting knees time away from the flower bed. Unfortunately, this also means that there is a chance that I can be found in the bathroom after dinner, groaning and moaning and wretching. No - I'm not bulimic (have you SEEN my picture?) but I will be wrestling my chubby cheeks into some kind of lacy, corseted contraption that peaked in popularity in the 1800's.
All so I wont have to pick up a hoe.
That's with an "E" people!
HOE! NOT "HO"!