Before I delve into todays misadventure let me first give you a rundown of some past misadventures I have had that resulted in injury. Once you hear these and think back to my previous posts the question "Why am I not surprised?" will come to mind.
Injurious misadventure number one happened when I was just a kid Cardinal and not even a Cardinal yet. I was walking along the pathway that was in front of the row of town homes I lived in with my parents. I turned to walk across the grass to our front yard area. Directly in front of me, in my line of sight was the brown metal pole of our clothes line. My dad knew I was going to hit it but my mom being ever the optimistic one was so sure that I saw the pole and would turn before I reached it. Unfortunately her optimism was misplaced. I walked smack in to this pole receiving from it, the gift of a lovely goose egg on my forehead. Naturally my parents did what any parent would do, they tried hard to stifle their laughter as they rushed to my aid. Every so often my mom likes to tell this story to Little Miss and Mr. Man just to hear the uproarious giggles that erupt from them when they hear it.
Injurious misadventure number two occurred about two years ago. Cowboy and I had had an disagreement that morning and he took off for work without giving me his usual kiss goodbye. Even when we are mad at each other I still like getting a kiss goodbye from him before he leaves for work. I saw him pull out the driveway and I ran to the front porch to get his attention. I tapped gently on one of the windows and Crash! My hand went through! LouLou bell, one of my best friends, came to my rescue and brought me to the emergency room where we did was any bored stay at home moms would do, we clowned around and took pictures of not only the glass that the doctor had to fish out of my right index finger, but also of the doctor as he was digging. There are pictures on my personal Facebook timeline as proof of this. Of course LouLou Bell has heard the story of me, the brown pole, and the goose egg several times so she was not surprised to learn that all I did was gently tap on the window and this happened. The first words out of her mouth when I told her what happened was "Why am I not surprised?"
Finally we come to this afternoons misadventure. I stumbled over my own shoes as I was walking to my dinning room table. stumbling over ones shoes is not anything new. Everyone has done it at some point in their lives and even sustained an injury from it. Now when I say injury I am talking a sprained, bruised, swollen, maybe even broken toe. Not me folks! Oh no not me! After I stumbled I felt pain and I thought it would go away after a few minutes. When it didn't subside I didn't worry about it though I did get annoyed at the thought that I might have broken it. I sat down and took off my sock to asses the bruising and possible swelling only for me and Little Miss to discover my left pinky toe and the toe directly before it were covered in blood. Little Miss sprang into action and got a wet cloth to wipe the blood away. My brain, deciding it wanted to play news of the obvious, told my mouth to ask "Is it cut?" Of course Little Miss said yes and she added that it looked pretty bad. She then said it was deep. I asked her if she was sure because I know my Little Miss and sometimes situations will look or seem scary to her so she assumes it must be scary and make it out as such when questioned about it. She was adamant that it looked pretty bad so off to urgent care we went. My mil had to drive us and Mr. Man came along for the ride, regaling us with tales of when he had to get 7 stitches in his head. When the doctor initially looked at my foot I was sitting in a chair in the exam room and he thought all I would need to do was keep it bandaged and wear shoes and socks constantly until it healed. Then he asked me to sit on the exam table to he could look at it from other angles and thats when he saw how deep the cut really was and announced that I would need stitches. Thats right folks, only I would stumble over my own shoes and gash my foot so bad it requires stitches. Oh and in true me fashion, according to the doctor, the cut was in a very odd place. The cut is right near the bottom of my left pinky toe and slightly in between the pinky toe and toe next to it in the fold. That is how the doctor explained it to me. The first words out of my mouth when he told me all of this were "Why am I not surprised?!"
Only me I tell ya! Only Me!