9 years ago when Matt decided he wanted to marry me, I warned him, but he didn't listen! I told him--and my mother did, too--that he was willfully choosing to marry one of the clumsiest, most accident-prone women in the United States of America. He said it didn't matter to him. In sickness and in health, you know that whole bit...
Today he came right out and admitted that I am the most accident person he knows. Why?
Last Sunday, I went into the closet under our stairs to get some wrapping paper. When I came out, I discovered that Pepper had put his basket of toys in my path. I carefully stepped over the basket with my right foot. Then I stepped my left foot not quite over the basket. Unfortunately for me, that foot got caught in the basket handle, and down I went. I hit the ground so hard that Matt says the house shook. No one saw me fall, but I turned beet red anyway. I am quite certain that an hippo attempting ballet would be more graceful! I don't know what part of me hit the ground first...I think all of me hit the ground at the same time, right down to my face, which went mashing across the carpet. My right arm caught the edge of my lovely, iron/stone coffee table. I thought I had broken my wrist, but thankfully I didn't. THe next day my whole body was sore, and I had delightful bruises popping up all over. How did I manage to bruise my inner thight? I have not a clue, but I did!Dumb. That's all I have to say about that...D-U-M-B!
This morning I woke up finally feeling better. I wasn't hurting, and most of the bruises had faded away. I was all set up for a wonderful day of baking cookies. Every year I make a cookie sampler plate for each of my neighbors, all 20 houses on the cul-de-sac. I was so excited to get started that I didn't linger in bed, even though it is Saturday. I got the crust for my lemon bars in the oven. While it was baking, I began the dough for the Eggnog Thumbprints. While the butter and sugar were getting fluffy in the mixer, I answered the call of our crying kitty, who was locked out of the laundry room, and therefore was lacking access to her potty box.
Matt was very sweetly cleaning the kitchen floors for me. He pulled all the chairs out from the table, and got to work letting our iRobot sweep up. Matt had stacked our kitchen chairs in order to open up more space in the kitchen. As I walked past the chairs to open the laundry room door for Pixie, the chairs decided they no longer wished to remain stacked. I never realized until today that the top of our kitchen chairs come to a slight point. I realized it with complete clarity the second that one of the chairs speared the top of my bare foot.
By the time I managed to hobble across the kitchen and sit down at the dining room table, my foot had turned purple and my toes had gone numb. Matt removed the crust from the oven and put the mixer bowl in the fridge, and we headed for the ER. 3 hours later, I returned home, Motrin prescription in hand. Official diagnosis: Foot Contusion.
I don't think so. My foot is WHOA ugly tonight, and I can't feel my toes at all. And the pain? Let's just say if it's this bad with drugs in me, how much worse would it be without the meds! I think I'll be getting a second opinion on Monday. I think it's broke!
My friend Karon texted me tonight and said, "I'm going to have to start calling you Grace." I agree, because I am truly amazing...at getting hurt in the dumbest ways! And Matt? I told you so!