Monday, February 20, 2012
How I Broke my Toe Playing Pinkilicious
Otherwise titled, "Seriously? You don't have a better story than that?"
It all started happily enough. The girls were out of school for President's Day today and wanted to play Lily Baker's Pinkilicious board game. The game has cards that you pull and you have to do what the card says to get your points.
Ann Catherine pulled a card that told her to pretend she's driving a car, and we all had to follow her lead.
Rather quickly, her sedan turned into a Corvette and off she went. LB and I followed along.
Oh, you know where this is heading, don't you?
Off she went into the kitchen. LB was hot on her heels and I was bringing up the rear. As I turned the corner into the kitchen, I slipped in my socks and the only thing I remember is one leg flying up in the air and then landing, rather unceremoniously, sprawled out on the kitchen floor. There was nothing graceful about it. I banged my knee on the hardwood floor and one of my toes on my left foot hurt like all-get-out.
This is where it gets good.
At first, the girls were oblivious. Then I guess they heard me groaning because, to her credit, Ann Catherine poked her head back into the kitchen to make sure I was breathing. Once she realized I was still alive, off she went. Lily Baker, however, never looked back. I could have been a twisted, mangled, mess and she wouldn't have known it. She was on a mission to win the Pinkilicious game. Sorry, mom.
Think we're a little competitive in this family?
I finally got up and limped back to the game. We began to play, then I couldn't hold it in any longer.
"Girls," I said. "Thanks for the help back there. When you are hurt, who drops everything to pick you up and make sure you're okay? That would be me. Instead, you guys were leaping over me like I was roadkill!"
Guilting them into asking me how I was began to backfire. Instead, they started giggling.
"At least Ann Catherine checked to make sure I was alive," I continued. "Lily Baker, you just left me in a heap on the floor with tire tracks across my back."
That's when Lily Baker got up, mock sympathy oozing through her from head to toe, and said, "Oh, mommy, I'm so sorry. Let me see your knee," and she inspected it as if she was on staff at Johns Hopkins.
Ann Catherine, at this point, was in full-blown laughter.
LB gave me a hug and a quick smooch on the lips and mumbled something like, "Can we start playing the game again?"
That, my friends, is gratitude.
I'm wondering if I should have the following conversation with girls: "Hey girls, you know how I showed you to use 911 if there's an emergency? Well, if mommy ever becomes unconscious during Wii 'Just Dance' or a fierce game of Princess Yahtzee, could someone please pause the game for about five seconds and make sure I'm still breathing? I get that you all want to win, but seriously, is that too much to ask??"
It only got worse once Chris got home. You see, sympathy is hard to come by in this household. Chris doesn't feel bad for anyone. He once played a hockey game he doesn't remember. He went back in after taking a puck off the face that knocked him out and left him with a concussion. (on a personal note: kids, I am not condoning this. Your dad clearly has scrambled eggs.) At the end of said game, he had titanium plates put in behind his eye where he was gashed during the game. Then, he played the next night. It's why baseball players who go on the DL because of hangnails make him crazy.
He loves me with all his heart, but believe me, I get no sympathy from him.
So he gets home, and I tell him I think I broke my toe.
"So, how'd you do it?" he asked. I just looked down.
He starts smiling. "How'd you do it?" he kept asking.
Oh, he knew it was going to be a good one. Finally, I confessed.
He laughed the entire time I told the story. Then he looked down at my purple, swollen toe and said, "Yep, looks like you jammed it pretty good," and walked away.
Then as he got to the bedroom, he threw out, "Maybe you should just stick to Wii dancing."
My poor, aching toe. And battered pride.
Tonight as we were tucking the girls in and doing our nightly "I'm thankful for" ritual, Chris said, "I'm thankful no one was seriously injured today while playing the Pinkilicious game."
And the girls started cackling.
Seriously, the outpouring of love is overwhelming in this household. Living here is not for the faint of heart.
I had a migraine yesterday that put me in bed all afternoon and evening. Today, I wiped out during a children's board game and knocked my toe out of whack.
Can I get a do-over? I'm thinking it's not going to be my week.