The REST of the Story...

Okay, in the interest of full-disclosure -- in this blog, I only ever write about the HAPPY STUFF in my life. Every word I write is 100% true...you NEVER have to worry about that...

But, I leave lot of things out. That's actually the whole point of having your own blog, people!! YOU GET TO EDIT YOUR OWN LIFE...as you see fit.

So, you only hear about the stuff I do RIGHT...

And I almost never give you a peak behind the curtain...my messy basement and unkempt car, all the times I lose my temper with the kids or have a fight with my husband. Who wants to relive that kind of crap??

Anyway -- as lovely as Lilly's Golden Birthday was -- there was one spectacular bad moment...

As I was making Lilly’s special Golden Birthday dinner -- rushing around in the kitchen (barefoot), the pinky toe on my left foot got caught in Frankie’s wire food dish holder, which then pivoted and slammed against the cupboard, pinning me....but as my body pitched forward, but my little toe stayed behind. Ugh. I tripped and fell, dropping two big empty glass serving bowls...they went clattering to the floor as I caught myself on a chair...which was the only thing that kept me from doing a complete face plant.

OMG...THE PAIN...I thought I tore my damn toe off...

I was afraid to look down, and when I did, the little toe on my left foot was bent at a 90 degree angle.

I was screeching in pain...

And doing a lot of very loud cursing...which sounded like this:

S**&&))(*&^%%   D$$##@%%^^   H((**&&%!!   F((**&))%$##  My four favorite curse words, always in the same order...over and over again...

With all the commotion (falling glassware, and me screaming)...John and Warren came running into the kitchen. Lilly (who was standing next to me when it happened) -- ran to the kitchen door and covered her ears. The kids were terrified. I sat down in the chair to get my breath...and I was crying from the pain....When I saw my toe, pointing West like that...without even thinking, I crossed my right foot over to push my little toe back into the North position...which caused another wave of excruciating pain.

And more cursing than I care to admit...

At that moment, all I could think about was Lilly’s Golden Birthday Dinner. The beautiful porterhouse steaks were already resting, and the twice baked potatoes were on the table. If we go to the Emergency Room, the whole night will be ruined...my broken toe will be the big story...and it will be how she remembers this day.

Besides, I've always heard there isn't anything they can do for a broken toe...

So, I told the kids I was going to be fine...I just needed a minute. Then, I asked John to help me buddy tape my little toe to it’s neighbor...

Within five minutes, we were all sitting down to eat supper. Those steaks were DELICIOUS.

And, sure enough, according to Google, there isn’t much you can do for a broken toe.  I couldn’t stand the idea of somebody touching it....so I used one of those stretchy Velcro bandages to wrap all the toes on my left foot together. I took two aspirins and I propped my foot up with an ice-pack.

I sat in my chair that night, thinking. HOW QUICKLY IT ALL GOES TO HELL. Yikes. I am SO GOD DAMNED LUCKY. I ended up with a broken pinky toe...because that fall could have just as easily resulted in a broken hip. Jesus Christ...how, in just a flash, everything changes. (see what I mean? lots of random cursing...)

That night, I slept in my own bed, but every time I moved, the shooting pain from my toe would wake me up...so it was a restless night. But, finally, about 3:00 AM, I fell asleep...

At 6:30 AM, John got up and let Frankie out. Which he often does. Then, he locked himself out of the house.

That was new.

Apparently, he knocked on the kitchen door for about half an hour. But I didn't hear that.

So, he moved to the front door of the house (which is near our bedroom window)...and he started banging on the metal door with a wooden spoon. THAT woke me up!!

I tried to hobble down the hall...but I couldn't put any weight on my left foot...I was confused and didn't quite know what was happening...

Lilly and Warren were still sleeping, and I was afraid all the noise would wake the kids. By the time I got to the door, John was FURIOUS...but, obviously, I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG...so, after some yelling (both of us) -- I went back to bed.

Later that day,  when Lilly heard what happened, she asked me why Grandpa didn't just use the spare key in the vestibule?

Humm.. I told her Grandpa doesn’t approve of hidden keys, so I’ve never told him we had one...and now doesn’t seem like a good time...