So, I suppose I'll update ya'll on The Queen Of England's medical status. Apparently, she had a fall (off of her broom) of some sort, and is still incapacitated in a local (nursing home) hospital. Though it's not confirmed, I would imagine that she broke something (someone's spirit). Though it's not confirmed, I believe she's going to be off of her (high horse) feet for quite a spell (eternity in purgatory). I'm sure her family (at least those who'll admit it) is hoping (to be included in the will) for her speedy (or not) recovery (kicking of the bucket).
Seriously, I can't believe I'm about to admit this, but I actually kind of feel sympathy for the old bird. After all, if she does drop over not only will I have no one to argue with on a daily basis, but chances are her house will go on the market. And God only knows who might end up in there next. From what I understand, she's lived there for decades. She's as much a part of the neighborhood as the stop sign at the end of the block. It wouldn't be the same without her.
Believe it or not, she and I didn't always harbor mutual animosity for one another. Though short lived, once upon a time we actually got along. I know, I can't believe it either. That she used to bring over snacks of tootsie rolls and cookies for the kids. That she sent a really thoughtful card after the birth of #5. That she gave decent gardening advice. That she often complimented the kids. I guess the good does outweigh the bad, huh? I suppose a little part of me is rooting for her to get well soon. But, let's just keep it between us for now, ok?
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