Last night I ate a combination of pizza + cold beer + chocolate ice cream which = horrendous, throbbing cold sore, an equation I am sadly familiar with and one of the few I didn’t have to refer to the back of the herpes text book for the answer.
It typically means, I am almost physically unable to crack a smile, rub soothing lip balm across my bottom lip, spend a tantric night with Sting, or enjoy any of the following foods; pizza, cold beer or chocolate ice cream.
I was feeling slightly cranky and pulled out the big guns on the girls, “Stop that horse-play!” A command I had never previously uttered.
Then I heard my three year old say, “Stop playing like horses sisters!” and it occurred to me, I had no idea what “horse-play” even meant.
I wonder if horses know what cold sores are?
