So, you remember the Ancient Chinese Torture Sandals that were a "gift" from Hubby? The ones that hurt when I wear them? Well, Hubby went and got me a new gift. This one? A Bed of Nails.
The technical name is "Lotus Bed" which makes it sound all nice and pretty and relaxing. It even looks pretty and relaxing. Except that when any part of your exposed skin (or, let's face it, your clothed skin) happens to even barely graze one of those pretty little lotus blossoms, it feels like a hypodermic needle being plunged into said skin by some sadistic untrained nurse.
Much like the Torture Sandals, the Bed of Nails is meant to stimulate reflexology points and the flow of energy through the body and heal what ails you and all that. But really, it just hurts like hell. I'm slowly, carefully, painfully figuring out how, exactly, to use it without white-hot searing pain.
His intentions were good, I'm sure. Or at least that's what I'm choosing to believe. Because just when I think he might be trying to kill me, he'll turn around and make some sweet pea soup for dinner.
Maybe I should check the recipe. Just in case.