I am off to a FINE start.

I meant what I said yesterday.  So when my son wanted to go to the store to get a video game with a gift card he’d been saving since Christmas, I decided that he, his sister, and I would all walk over together. It’s not terribly far, and it’s a gorgeous day here in the desert. Besides, a nasty cold has been working its way through our house, and we’ve all been more or less confined indoors for the last week.  Oh, and I’ve been having a terrible time with the damn hives. (It’s official, btw: I’ve had hives for over six weeks; therefore, my urticaria is now considered chronic. AWESOME.)

Off we went, the kinder and I, and a most pleasant walk had we. The boy got his game, the girl enjoyed pretending she was running a race (she was wearing her “running shorts” and “running shoes”, you see), and I was finally out of my house for a change. HOORAY!

The sidewalk as you approach our complex is a bit on the narrow side. There was a gentleman walking toward us, so I moved a little further to my left to let him pass… and stepped directly into a DEEP GAPING HOLE just off the sidewalk. Never even saw it coming.

I tried to catch my balance, ended up over-correcting, careened in the opposite direction, and fell HARD on my right side. My son made a valiant effort to catch me, but there was just no stopping that train. I think, though, that if it hadn’t been for him I would have hit my head, so there’s that. As it was I took a nice little chunk out of my toe. I sat there bleeding on the sidewalk. Luckily, I had a bottle of water and a bandage (because, yeah, MOM). We were close to the convenience store so I set my son running to grab a paper towel. Then I cleaned and bandaged my toe and hauled myself back to my feet.

We are home now. The kids are playing. My husband is putzing around in the kitchen. As for me, I can’t decide which is worse: the soreness up and down my right side, the throbbing in my toe, OR the fact that my ass is itchy.





6 thoughts on “I am off to a FINE start.

  1. Some of your posts are hard to comment on… I have this history of being less than overly-supportive…. it started when my best friend was dying of brain cancer. He had a lot of sisters. He had all the sweetness and support he could use. So I was the funny asshole. I teased him. I treated him like a normal person. He liked it. Later I did home health care work. I treated everybody like I treat everybody…. with less teasing… and people like it. So when I am making jokes about your condition, I hope you remember this and try to understand that I do it out of love… because I am sensitive and full of empathy… but having me cry isn’t going to make you feel better, but if I can make you laugh, it might make us both feel better… crap… that was good… I need to do a post about that…


Lay it on me.

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