I just want sympathy. And a mud cake.

Nipple War Wound still incredibly sore, despite attempts to manage it. All whilst attempting to avoid another bout of mastitis. And starving a small child (or worse! having to feed him more often than I already am!)

A side effect of the management is that the left side is slightly overused, and is taking on that cheese-grater-ravaged look and feel again.

My new slippers aren’t even helping.

And I’m hungry. Nay … starving!

I’m beginning to sound like one of my children … “I’m starving! When can we eat? Can we get something to eat here? How come? But I’m starving. I want something to eat NOW!”

I’m putting the Fairy Godmother on Shrek 2 to shame. Not in the ‘attempting to break up a marriage so my son can marry a princess’ vindictive sort of way.

More a “Someone get me something deep fried and smothered in chocolate” whiney kind of way.

Bloody family couldn’t even whip me up a mud cake for my birthday, stick a candle on it and sing badly to me.

I did contemplate making one myself – but why should I have to. Besides, I started and couldn’t wait the required cooking time, so I just ate the mix. Ok, I did eat some of it before it was mixed.

But I was starving!

I couldn’t wait for the ingredients to be combined. I think I even ate a candle …

(Luckily we’re out for dinner with extended family tonight. Not expecting a cake, but at least I’ll be able to eat 3 courses. Might even take my mind of my nipples!)

2 Replies to “I just want sympathy. And a mud cake.”

  1. Ah, if only it were as painless as having broken glass ground into my breasts!


    (Is getting better though. Much better! Despite continued lack of mud cake!!!)

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