It Really Isn't Funny.

I know this question has been asked by a million people but I am still going to ask, why is a funny bone called a funny bone? Anything I can possible smash, ding or full on destroy with my elbow is always pulling them in like a giant magnet. And you know what else? When I hit it, I don't laugh, I don't even giggle, as a matter of fact it happens so often now I don't do much of anything besides letting out a possible little sigh. I used to wheeze and curl up into the fetal position on the floor while screaming that my hand is on fire and for Nick to grab a bowl of ice and the chocolate chips while he is at it. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, is either at the perfect inconvenient height or swings out at just the most awful position. The doorknobs for example, my elbow matches up with them with such perfectness that I swear they were made to torment me like my middle school gym teacher. Always nagging and reaching out telling me to get over there this instant and my elbows happily oblige. Then there are chairs, the backs of mine, my inlaws and my parents just suck my elbows in like two middle schoolers that just discovered making out for the first time, and hitting my elbow on them is pretty much just as enjoyable as my first time making out so that was a very good analogy. My elbows now have a new best friend, the banister in my house. I hit it so often and so hard that I considered unscrewing it from the wall, puttying the holes, painting over them and putting the banister up a few feet higher all while Nick was at school. I think it was within the first few days of moving into our house that the banister and I met. I remember that I came down on it so hard that my teeth hit together and my shoulder dislocated, I have never seen Nick's head snap up so fast. This is how the rest went...

Me: (Huddled over grabbing onto my elbow and trying to tell Nick where my will is in the pile of a hundred boxes.)
Nick: (Clearly distraught and quickly running over.) Geez, is the rail ok?
Me: (Standing up like I am totally fine and clearly pissed off.) Thanks for being so concerned with the rail.

After I stomped downstairs and sulked over a bowl of cereal I realized how ridiculous that was of me. Poor Nick has seen me hit my elbows thousands of times and now he assumes that I will just shake my head and continue on with my business. I guess he didn't realize that I had never been subjected to the physical abuse of a banister so it was an all new angle to my bone. I am happy to announce that after a couple of months it is just another crappy elbow to railing make out session waiting to happen.