Guilt: some of us have it, and the rest of us are in prison. So, I was feeling guilty about Tim, right? He had practically coddled me after I had all of my wisdom teeth removed, and there I was, barely getting together instant mashed potatoes for his dinner. I wanted to do better, even if that meant Rain's desires would come 2nd for the first time in her very short life.
So. It was late at night, and I was in the living room. I had to take a restroom break, but as I made my way there, I heard Rain making fussy noises. Normally, whoever is closest to Rain when she cries picks her up. "I'll hurry up and use the bathroom," I thought. "Then I'll rock Rain to sleep before she gets too loud and bothers Tim." I rushed through the bathroom doorway, fearing Rain would begin to wail and wake Tim up before I could get to her.
SMACK!
I crushed my two smallest toes against the edge of the door, whose position I had sorely miscalculated in the dark. I stumbled the rest of the way into the bathroom. I grabbed my foot and squeezed my toes together to numb the pain. There was no crying out, as I did not want to agitate Rain further. I rub-a-dub-dubbed next to my tub-a-tub-tub. I've stubbed my toe before, but this had a bit of a pinch to it.
I hobbled to the bedroom and sat on the bed. I rocked back and forth with my foot pressed between my hands. I had pushed out a 9-pound baby; I wasn't gonna cry! Yet, anyway. When all was gathered and calculated later, these were the results:
1. I had popped the veneer on the door off, so the door would no longer close. Tim ended up repairing it (*sigh*).
2. I have a hairline fracture in the toe next to my pinkie.
And Rain? That night, Tim had given her a pacifier while I was injured in the bathroom, so she never truly woke up, anyway. Ay ...
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
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