Yeah, it was one of those weekends.
You know, the kind where nothing much happens but a couple things stand out.
Case in point - my broken toe(s).
Yeah, I think (know) I have at least one broken toe.
The 'baby' toe.
You know, that nubby little toe that really has no purpose in life other than to balance out your feet. That one.
A good rule of thumb - don't kick a door frame. Even if it was not on purpose.
I was minding my own business Friday night, just walking into my bedroom and then BAM! it happened. My foot met the business end of the door frame. I crumpled to the floor, screaming expletives the whole way down. It hurt so much I couldn't even cry. In fact, it hurt so much I almost laughed.
Which really makes no sense at all when you think about it.
By Saturday I couldn't walk without pain.
So I hobbled. And limped. And whined about how much it hurt.
And really, you can't do anything for broken 'baby' toe.
The toe won't bend. I can't put any weight on it.
So I wrapped my foot, thereby immobilizing the toe.
It didn't do much other than add to my already impressive limp.
I'm just happy that it's still flip flop season because no other shoes are getting on that foot.
Today at the pool I just sat in the shade, foot throbbing. There was no way I was going to swim near a bunch of people who could stomp on my foot at any given moment.
And then, Emma got stung by a yellow jacket.
Or maybe it was a bee.
She ran over to us, arm held high and said "Mommy! A little bug bit me and it hurts!"
I looked and didn't see anything and then she started to cry. It was that "I'm really in pain and somewhat scared" kind of cry. And then I saw it - a little raised spot under her arm, getting bigger as I stared at it. Emma said it was an 'orange and black' bug and it BIT HER! She was rather unhappy at the little critter. I'm quite certain if I had found the culprit I would have smashed him with my good foot (while wearing shoes, of course).
The pool had no 'bee sting' first aid, so the pool manager whipped up some baking soda paste. Thankfully the stinger wasn't in her arm. After some much needed hugs and a ring pop, the tears stopped and I told Emma that was her very first bee sting. She didn't seem very impressed.
And there you have it - we're the walking wounded over here with broken toes and bee stings. Ah, the joys of a summer weekend.
How was your weekend?