Mystery Diagnosis, Hillmomba Style

Mrs. HM is tired tonight, people. Tired like George Costanza, but reluctant to have a sleeping chamber built under her desk with a little shelf for her alarm clock.

In addition, a strange wound appeared on her right elbow two days ago. A wound which was noticed due to the pain, yet no recollection of injury can be found in Mrs. HM's memory. The wound itself is unremarkable. It is a dime-sized blister just behind the pointy bone of Mrs. HM's elbow. A regular blister, like a flap of skin with fluid built up under it. What calamity could have befallen Mrs. HM to leave such a mark? She has only two random guesses.

Perhaps Mrs. HM got too close to the oven door, or brushed her elbow against a hot pizza pan sitting on top of the stove. That's a longshot. Mrs. HM is very careful around pizza pans. They contain PIZZA! Maybe it was an inadvertent sizzle against ebony T-Hoe, who sits in the sun on the blacktop parking lot all day.

The longest of long shots might deem it a boredom injury. As in a blister formed by the repeated rubbing of Mrs. HM's elbow against her wooden desk, as she rests her heavy head on her palm, and sighs dramatically. 12,000 times a day.

There must be some conspiracy afoot. A Mrs. Hillbilly Mom elbow blister conspiracy.

I blame Claire McCaskill.