Heating Things Up in the Bedroom

No, this is not a post-Valentine's recap, or misguided Cosmo advice, it's a sad, but true (meaning funny for you) story about me.

Thursday evening: The sudden onset of a brutal stomach bug has me puking all night - so much so, that I not only throw up the entire contents of my stomach (and possibly a lung) but manage to throw out my back in the process.

Friday afternoon: Feeling better intestinally, but my back is so sore I can't move without much difficulty, and pain. Pop a couple Aleve and hope it goes away.

Friday night: It doesn't.

Saturday morning: Head to the store to find something stronger for my back. Come home with some ThermaCare disposable heating pads and Icy/Hot, a product I've heard about, but never used. Think Ben Gay, but with a much cooler name.

Saturday afternoon: Slap on a heating pad, which is actually pretty soothing. And its wraparound design has the added benefit of serving as a girdle, which coupled with the five pounds I "lost" puking/not eating for two days, has me looking marvelous!

Saturday evening: Get ready for bed by applying a liberal coating of Icy/Hot to my entire lower back. Let me tell you, that stuff is aptly named. Felt like ice cubes going on, then slowly warmed to a not-quite pleasant burning sensation. But it took my mind off the back pain...for about ten minutes. Lying in bed, I couldn't get comfortable. I started on my back, which I usually do, but thought, maybe since my back was sore, I should give it a rest and try sleeping on my stomach. BAD IDEA! You see, by rolling over, I inadvertently placed my most private of parts into the the Icy/Hot oil slick that transferred off of my back and onto the sheet (Yes, I sleep naked. Got a problem with that?) Anyway, the stuff must be pretty potent, for it proceeded to burn my poor penis for the next two hours.  And not in a good way.

Sunday morning: Wake up feeling tired, but my back does feel much better. I refuse to attribute it to Icy/Hot, which I throw away to "teach it a lesson" for messing with my boys. But just in case, I slap on my heated man girdle and head to church.

Sunday afternoon: Wake up refreshed. Okay, so it wasn't really church I went to, but "couch" is pretty close if you squint your eyes. And while you're squinting, check out my slim sihouette! I loves my new man girdle!