I'm pretty sure I broke my itty bitty toe this morning. I was walking out of the kitchen with a sippy cup full of milk that a certain little boy was having a panic attack about. I must have been in too big of a hurry, because I kicked the door jam on the way out, and my baby toe got stuck, but my body kept going
It brought me to my knees. My eyes FILLED with tears. I yelled for Gavin to get his Daddy out of the shower. MAN DOWN MAN DOWN!
Anyways, I'm pretty sure its broken. The entire side of my foot is swollen and bruised and hurts like a you-know-what.
So, we spent the day in Mama's bed eating snacks and watching movies.
Lazy, go ahead say it, I don't care,
You try hobbling around with a three year old dodging in and out, over and under your legs, all the while a cling on baby grasping at any part of your clothing she can get her little clingy hands on, desperate to scale your legs and be carried around all day.
NO, thanks, I'll stay in bed and rest my tootsies