Which is to say Happy Valentine's Day but with no lip movement. I've burnt my lower lip pretty decently. I look like I went completely crazy-mad for collagen injections. My husband keeps calling me Angelina. He thinks it's hilarious.
And typical. Let's face it - anyone who knows me well will not be surprised. I constantly have marks on my hands where I've cut myself using a knife. I've turned walking into walls/doorways/mirrors into an art form. I've given myself a black eye more than once. Stitches? Yes. Broken limbs? But of course. Concussion? Oui! I have a wide range of talent.
So those of you who can still move your mouths well, enjoy your Valentine candy. I'll be attempting to gum Jell-O cubes with dignity. Hahee Alenine Ay!