Midol with a tequila chaser

I've done it again. I woke up dark and early with only the moon to illuminate my stumbling to wake the girls for school when my sleepy back decided to have a hissy fit. 

"Husband." I said, bouncing a bit on the bed since I couldn't turn my head after sitting up. "Huuuuuuuuusband! I've thrown out my back!"

"Get a drink of water, you're dehydrated," he said.

My glare fell on his relaxed back, it obviously mocking me. The minutes ticked by, the girls needed breakfast and I needed a stiff drink to ease my muscles at 6:15am. My patience stretching as thin as Kim Kardashian's skirt fabric, I rolled out of bed and hobbled down the hallway. "Water, my ass."

Ten minutes of yoga stretches later where the best I could do was reach my knees while bent at the waist and standing and I'm still in bad shape.

"Bring me Midol!" I yelled. I could wash it down with the tequila I was dreaming of, forget the coffee - this required serious action. He brought me water.

"Where are the pills o'glory?" I asked. This was then followed by his five-minute lecture on the benefits of exercise. He won't be making it into work today. My foot reflex works just fine.