Black eye

Well it's official. I have a black eye. Don't think I have had one of those since my basketball playing days.

(Speaking of that, remind to tell you the story of when JB and I were dating and I had a black eye. We convinced his mother that he punched me in the eye. That wasn't a funny joke.)

This black eye isn't incredibly noticeable. Probably not to anyone but me. But it's there. And it's definitely blue. From my cheekbone to my eyelid.

I wish I had some very cool story to share with you in regards to my black eye. How I did something heroic or exciting or something just very cool.

But alas, my black eye is simply the result of having a very strong dog.

Two days ago Scrubs and I were playing in the backyard while the boys napped. I had a ball and we were playing fetch. Unfortunately I zigged when Scrubs zagged and the top of his head hit me in the cheekbone.

It made me instantly think: Those fights in the movies are so fake. One hit and someone would be knocked out. They can't take this over and over and over again.

One hit for me and I was on the verge of passing out.

I stumbled into the house with Scrubs wondering what the big fuss was about. I was literally seeing stars and couldn't even touch my face. Needless to say, that didn't help my migraines any. I could tell it was swollen -- just a bit puffy. And now, two days later, a bit black and blue.

Scrubs, however, didn't seem fazed by the incident even one bit.

Told you he was hard headed!