So, after injuring my foot about a month ago, I've taken what you might call a breather from any running or jogging... or walking... until I'm just about climbing the walls. And I'm flat out tired of "resting my foot" and waiting for the dang appendage to heal.
And then, this morning, I got the idea in my head that I could take just a short walk, just a little one.
"Has your foot hurt in the last week?" Vicky asked me.
"Yes," I replied.
"In the last five days?"
I should have seen where Vicky's line of questioning was going. She's sneaky like this. "In the last two days," asked little miss know it all...
"Yes," I said. "But only yesterday morning."
I tell you all this because, while I do not believe in psychics, I have somehow gained the knack of being able to tell my wife is thinking I'm an idiot without her needing to say a word...