Wednesday, March 12, 2014

So this happened last Friday...

There is nothing quite like falling down the stairs, and landing with every ounce of your weight directly on your kneecap.  This, of course, is followed by your husband trying to manipulate your leg to make sure it's not broken, your son with his face an inch above yours saying, "I fink her weg is broken. She needs to go to the hospital,", and of course your dog (who had to have been a nurse, or at least a mother, in a past life) is trying to lick you and lay on you.  Once you have stopped screaming in excruciating pain, you now are shaking (and chattering your teeth) uncontrollably but are still on the floor because it hurts too much to get up.  Then after your husband annoys the shit out of you with a thousand questions – you do not know if it's broken, by the way, because you don't own an effing X-ray machine, nor do you have spy-vision – you make your way to the couch still shaking and chattering.  Then, after your husband has wrapped you in blankets like a newborn (even though you are hot but still shaking, and now are in pain as well as feeling overwhelmingly claustrophobic) and your son, while eating popcorn, is still shouting about your broken weg and that you need a new bone and also a checkup.  Your husband is still trying to ask if your kneecap is broken, and you can’t talk because your jaw is still shaking like crazy, but you still don’t know if it’s broken, because you still don’t have X-ray vision.  To top it all off, at that point your dog jumps onto your stomach, sticks her tongue up your nose (which you can’t combat because you are still swaddled in the blankets) and starts trying to hump you.
No, there’s nothing quite like that.


*I’m fine, no it’s not broken, yes, I know my dear sweet family was trying to help, yes it’s perfectly acceptable to laugh at the absurdity of the whole situation.*

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