It’s come to this

The eldest looked at me like I was totally loopy when I arrived home from the chemist on Saturday arvo raving “Oh my gawd, look what I found!”

What I’d found was a 96-pill bottle of Nurofen while I was waiting for the youngest’s EpiPen and cortisone scalp lotion prescriptions to be filled. I had no idea that Nurofen came in bottles, I thought it was rationed in plastic strips.

There’s one of DD’s Christmas presents sorted! Erm, I may have actually said those words to the eldest.

The eldest didn’t think 96-pill bottles of Nurofen were the least bit exciting. Just wait until they’re 50 … and I’m 85 … gulp … then they’ll get it.

After surviving a week where everything hurt, a bottle of Nurofen was my idea of white gold.

I’d suffered through a sore shoulder, hip, head and heart.

There was back-to-school drama and teen drama and dog drama and medical drama and work drama. All that probably accounts for the stiff shoulder, it’s where I carry the overflow stress from my jaw.

I have no idea what’s wrong with the hip. Please let it not be arthritis.

I soaked my sore body in my sister’s spa on Saturday, but it still hurt like Hades through the night as I tossed and gingerly turned.

I was so knackered by yesterday that I limped through a lunchtime game of Battleship with the youngest then popped off to bed for a nanna nap.

I never have nanna naps.

I remembered why I never have nanna naps when I woke up from it – they make me feel like someone has slipped me a mickey for hours afterwards.

Fortunately, there was a beach swim in my future. And a glorious one it was too, another one of our favourites of the season. The water was cool and clear as crystal and washed away a good bit of the soul soreness.

As did a glass of rose on DD’s deck and a traybake dinner from his new oven.

DD was pretty knackered himself because he’d started the day horse riding on the beach …And finished it building a garden bed …