A Massive Swelling

Grumpy was laid up all weekend with a particularly nasty attack of gout. Though he irritatingly refers to it as "the gout".

That really gets my the goat.

On Saturday morning we decided he'd better get to the doc for some anti-inflammatories. He was okay going out - managed to hop down our front steps, but coming back he realised he didn't have it in him to hop up and was reduced to crawling.

I regret to have to tell you that I stood in our front door doubled over with a wheezing laugh. When I finally got my breath back I told him, "You know, anyone walking past would take one look at you and think, 'I didn't know she was married to a Vietnam vet.'"