Once I realized I couldn't think anymore, let alone type, the tequila party for one ended as quickly as it began. I'm a lightweight and an easy drunk and a bit of stick in the mud too so instead of dulling the pain any way possible they humored me with my new plan which isn't new at all, it's from two weeks ago. I'll lie on the bricks in the driveway and someone can drive over my arm until it parts ways with the remainder of my body. I can be the one-armed princess. It's not like I'm a good swimmer or able to wrap both arms completely around any of the huge men in this house for a hug so I won't miss it at all. I'll sweeten the pot and throw my useless ears in on offer as well.
When my blood ran red again Lochlan made some tea and toast and I resumed speaking (and typing) English, which was perfect timing because Ben came home and wasn't thrilled that I was still in pain nor was he thrilled with the others' attempts to fix it with alcohol. I don't think that's what it started out as but I don't think I'll be doing it again any time soon either.
