My toe

I did not hurt my little toe on my right foot on my scooter; I walked my toe into the really heavy metal box I purchased to stash some of Mother’s important papers in. Just this morning I was telling Quentin on the phone about my marathon lawn mowing Thursday at Grandma’s and mentioned breaking a few “Sarah rules”. Oh, rules like mowing around the house by hand; I used riders for everything. Then, this very afternoon, I got up and walked full stride into the Mother Box. I don’t remember moving it into a different position along the walking pathway, but there it was.

My toe clearly was aimed 45 degrees away from the toe next to it; it’s not so noticeable now because it is SWELLING. I have four toes and a blob.

UPDATE: It is now Monday morning. I was interrupted yesterday when Summer sat down next to me . . . and I forgot to come back. It was traumatic; Summer had a rubber spider that had a hole in its neck and she was blowing it up to the size of a small balloon. Yes, this is my life.