The first time I ever broke a bone, it was my two smallest toes on my right foot. How did I break them you ask? I kicked a stair while I was running up them. You wouldn’t think that would break your toes, but believe me, it will.
The second time I broke a bone, it was again, my two smallest toes on my right foot. This time, I broke them kicking a doorjamb on my way down a hallway. Apparently, I have no control over my feet.
The third time I broke a bone, it was my pinky on my left hand. It got smashed (and nearly severed) in a car door.
The latest time I broke a bone, it was again, my pinky on my left hand—and it was 10 minutes ago. I was balancing my hand on the retractable handle of my laundry basket (It’s one of those tall ones that can be wheeled around) while I was picking up some dirty socks. The handle slid, and so did my pinky finger.. right into a gap that couldn’t have been more than a quarter of a centimeter wide. Surprisingly, my finger fit in that hole.. I’m not sure how—and it was difficult to remove my finger from said hole. My pinky is now swollen and the fingernail has turned purple (where blood is pooling under it) and a little crooked. I’ve got it on ice and I’m going to wrap it up in a bit. It’s a lovely way to start your morning.
How is it that I always break my bones in the stupidest ways possible? P.S. : Typing the letter A hurts like hell. Thank god the majority of my posts are scheduled ahead of time so I don’t have to type much this week.