If men are known for one thing, it’s their high pain tolerance. No! I kid! As I was bowled over in pain yesterday from MY PELVIS SOFTENING AND SPREADING SO A BOWLING BALL-SIZED HUMAN CAN POP OUT OF THERE, Mr. Candy emerged from the bathroom, dramatically clutching his hand.
“I cut my finger on the toothbrush! Quick — get me a Band-Aid!” he cried.
You don’t even want to know how this occurred. Or how long he pouted. But suffice it to say his face looked something like this (sans kick-ass sombrero):
Yes, yes, that is indeed a cake celebrating the Big Snip! How awesome is that? Chock full of Vicodin, with a side of chopped nuts. Not sure to where Ted’s running in that get-up, though — perhaps to Mexico for “extra-strength” pain meds?