My youngest son. 25 yrs old today...old, old, old! Quarter of a century. His girlfriend is a riot, I like her!
Physical therapy was a rough one today. I'm sore, sore, sore, but don't want to admit it because then dear hubby will advise against riding mules. Huh.
The therapist is thinking that there is something else wrong with my shoulder, and THAT makes me very unhappy. I don't even want to think of surgery, recovery and more PT. I want to get on with things darnit!
We are going out to lunch then picking up some movies to watch in case it decides to rain.