Five years ago, the day after our romantic wedding anniversary, Charlie had to be removed from our house by ambulance. He was hospitalized for almost a week and the doctors were prepared to do surgery for what everyone considered to be a ruptured disk in his lower spine. Thankfully, it wasn't a ruptured disk and surgery was not necessary. However, Charlie had to take up a daily regiment of exercises that would help to strengthen his back ... including, yoga.
We never really did figure out why his back went out on him five years ago. It has been one of those mysteries that has completely eluded us. Until today.
This morning, Charlie's back has gone out on him again. As I'm typing this ... he is laying on the couch behind me with a heating pad and loaded up on Vicodin. We were discussing how he may have thrown it out, and the only thing we can come up with is the house cleaning we did last night.
I think Charlie's ailing back is partly our minister's fault. If he hadn't given such a risqué sermon, I wouldn't have convinced Charlie that cleaning the house in our skivvies was a good idea. Instead of spending a leisurely morning at the zoo, I refereed stroller races around our kitchen, tried to keep the children from crawling all over their father ... and figured out how to upload a video to my blog. (What I've noticed is that it's best to let the entire video load before you try to watch it. Hit pause and let the red bar at the bottom fill in. Otherwise, the video is very choppy ... or at least it is on our computer!)
Poor Charlie. Poor William.
Sometimes it's better to stay away from the females in this household.