Tuesday, May 6, 2008


I stumbled out of bed this morning and was on my way to the coffee pot when my morning was shattered. On the landing, at the bottom of the stairs, laying in ambush, was a metal matchbox style airplane. I stepped on it with my right foot and it ripped a hole in my husband's sock (which I'd stolen as I didn't have any clean ones) and actually punctured my foot!
OMG! OW! OW, Ow Ow!!!
I don't know if the location of the puncture is the ball of the foot exactly, it is that slightly indented area next to the meaty part of the ball of the foot that goes with my big toe. Definitly in the striking part of my foot if I was landing a front kick though.
Anyway; I hobbled over to the kitchen, and I began the morning worship ritual of my ancestors only substituting Starbucks for Maxwell House, and found a band-aid. I then hobbled back up the stairs and not so gracefully, nor so sweetly, pulled two sleeping young men out of bed and threatened their very being if there was one scrap of metal on the floor by breakfast.

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