Schweine Tot

Yes that is German. No I do not speak German. Even now my husband is stressing over whether or not that is the proper way to write “dead pig” in German because he is German, and according to him stressing is what they do…

Why is the title of my blog “Schweine Tot”? Because I have 8 or more stitches in my face. What? That doesn’t make sense to you? Let me explain…

Thursday afternoon I had an appointment to have a large ugly mole removed from my right cheek (and a tiny irritating one removed from my left jaw line). I’ve wanted to do it for… well years… but I have been putting it off again and again… Finally it was time. I went in, took off my shoes (I always take off my shoes) got swabbed down, numbed up and turned up my mp3 player really loud. They went to work which was awful and I won’t get into it except to say I recall the doctor asking the nurse to check my pulse 3 separate times. Why?? Cause I am a baby and I almost passed out.. or maybe I did pass out, the loud roar of Mr. Waits (my go to, all occasion sanity music) keeps me from remembering…

I didn’t think it would be a big deal afterwards. A few stitches and we’re done… no. I have 8 stitches in my face (because he did a fancy surgical thing to make it fit into a crease)… I can’t chew comfortably. I can’t laugh comfortably. Actually it hurts to laugh… so I have been trying not to. Problem is: I love laughing, I love smiling and with my crazy insane family I do a lot of it…

So let’s think about 3+ days of my husband and daughter trying their damndest NOT to make me laugh… it isn’t pretty. (he just said once again sorry, I’m trying not to make you laugh). I once had to listen to him try to explain to my daughter why she shouldn’t say certain words around mommy right now because it might bring me to hysterics… I am prone to long painful laughing fits after all…

This afternoon we were all gathered up in the guest room admiring my handy dandy cleaning job (my parents arrive Wednesday) when we some how lit on the topic of George Clooney. How? I have no idea. But we did, and I mentioned that his pot belly pig had passed away. Mike thought the pig was really little and I said no they can get quite large and so on and so forth until eventually for some reason he said “Clooney’s pig is dead” but in German… I don’t think German is a funny language. I don’t think some one’s pet dying is funny. But for some reason that phrase (which I can not repeat because I really really don’t speak German) is REALLY funny. Right up there with “Putin” in my book…

So now, 3 days after I’ve been stitched up my face HURTS my stitches are sore and I’m trying not to look my husband in the eyes for fear I will fall over laughing…. the man better not speak German or talk politics or I’ll find myself visiting my doc again sooner than I’d like…

Guten Nacht

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.