Boot.
For a torn ligament or two. But, thanks to my voracious milk-drinking, no broken bones.
(Jen, are you taking notes on how to announce things? :) (This is filler. I have to write more, since you can't put an ending parenthesis right after you put a smiley face. It looks funny.))
I will be in this lovely bit of footwear for at least 10 days. Then I am to go back for a check-up to see where things stand.
I've had lot of time on the couch to ponder things. Like muffins being given to a particular mouse and how that relates to my life.
If you injure your foot, you won't be able to walk on it.
If you can't walk on it, you won't be able to take care of little children.
If you can't take care of little children, the little children in your care will watch a whole lot of PBS.
If they watch PBS, you will have lots of time to think about how much you have to pee.
When you can't take it anymore, you will finally get the gumption to get off the couch and use the facilities.
When you get off the couch, you will tell the little children that you are going to the bathroom.
If you tell them, it will remind the three year old that he has watched a lot of TV and has to pee really badly, too.
If your three year old has to pee, he will sprint to the bathroom.
In his sprint to the bathroom, he will run into you and knock you off balance.
If you are knocked off balance, your foot will hit the ground really hard.
If your injured foot hits the ground, you will pee your pants.
Hitting your foot and peeing your pants will make you involuntarily curse.
When you curse, your three year old will almost feel badly.
Since he just almost feels badly, he won't let you go first, but will yell, "I just have to pee! I'll be fast!"
If he keeps yelling like that, he won't pay attention to what he's doing.
When little boys don't pay attention, they make a mess. That they won't clean up.
While you clean up the mess, the three year old will finish peeing and wash his hands.
After he washes his hands, you will finally get to go to the bathroom.
Getting to finally go means you get to sit down and get off of your foot.
If you get off your foot, it will start to throb.
And when it starts to throb, you will remember that you injured your foot.
When you injure your foot, you can't walk on it.
And if you can't walk on your foot, you are stuck sitting on the toilet.
I've learned a few things besides the importance of keeping my mouth shut when I head to the restroom. For one, if you are going to injure yourself, make sure you do the grocery shopping first. We have been without milk and fruit for two days. I miss my milk. And my fruit.
Also, make sure your husband breaks his foot six weeks before you injure yours. He'll be more compassionate. He will also have tips, like the best way to crawl up the stairs. Most importantly, he will have leftover pain medicine, when your doctor didn't even discuss pain relief. (I didn't realize it until we were half-way home.)
Don't hold back when telling your kids how much pain you are in. They may just feel enough pity to do some things without being told. Star actually did laundry while I napped. Buttercup took care of dinner. She only had to thaw pre-made food from the freezer and put it in the oven, but apparently it taxed her greatly. She kept saying, "I don't know how you do it. I'm only getting dinner ready and getting the boys to wash their hands. How do you do everything else, too?" Giant has been playing with the little boys even more than normal, being extra sweet with them. It has been quite pleasant around here.
I'm milking this foot thing as long as I can.
Not with actual milk, though.
We're out of that.
Have a lovely day!
