I was minding my own business, chilling on the computer, when the phone rings. It’s Tami, who works with me at church and is the President of the Young Women’s program while I am the secretary. She’s great. So since I am the secretary and therefore the record keeper, she called to get a phone number, and in my quest to retrieve it, I kick the dang chair I’d left sitting in the middle of the room.
4 hours later it still hurts, I can’t walk on it and I had to cancel the activity tonight.
When Bear and I were first married I ended up breaking the very same toe in a similar way. I kicked a door in a mad rush to the bedroom. But the circumstances were a little different.
When we were very newly newlywed, we still lived in Provo, UT while I finished up school. In Provo nearly everyone is Mormon and nearly everyone attends or works at BYU and therefore nearly everyone is exceedingly pure and sheltered and uncomfortable with the idea of married people doing what married people do.
So one day we’re sitting around our house in our underwear (funny, kind of like I’m doing now. I guess some things never change.) When there is a knock at the door. Bear hollers, “Just a second!” as we run to the bedroom to throw on our clothes. Bear’s cousin, thinking that some garbled phrase bellowed out could only possibly be “Come in!” opens the door right up (it being Provo nobody does anything inconvenient like lock the doors!) and comes on in trailing a whole troop of buddies behind him while I’m half naked streaking to the bedroom so I won’t be seen in my scantily clads.
And in my haste to protect my modesty I kick the doorframe and snap my baby toe like a little flesh-covered twig.
So then I not only had to rush to find something to throw on my body, but I had to deal with the incredible pain, and then deal with my own mortification and that of my guests.
Not my best night.
So at least this time around nobody saw my butt, and as an added bonus, I’m already drugged up!