They say bad things come in 3’s. Apparently, this is true. Sunday was a rough day here in the home of the M family.
It started off with me burning my hand. I was putting a muffin pan in the oven. I had it on convection, because I didn’t want to listen to the boys whine about how hungry they were. I had already turned the oven on and mix up the muffins. I poured them in the pan and stuck it in the oven. Then, I realized the pan was crooked. I didn’t want the muffins to cook uneven…so I picked one corner up and SSSSSTTTTT….I realized, of course that my hand was being sizzled…but the shock of the realization made me leave it there to cook for a few extra seconds. Of course, I let out a very loud expletive and stuck my hand under running cold water. I could immediately see the burn mark. Fortunately, it didn’t blister…
So, I am helping Ken with the yard work yesterday afternoon. I had taken all the necessary precautions, or so I thought…I had on jeans, a tshirt, wrap around sunglasses, and thick socks and tennis shoes.
The back yard is flat in one area and a hill in another. I was using the push mower and was walking along, minding my own business. Ken had gone to sit on the back porch because his back was bothering him. He had picked up some sticks and thrown them over the fence before he went to rest. Peyton was playing on the flat part, near the swingset. I started walking with the mower toward Peyton, on the side of the hill when BAM…..a huge limb shot out of the back of the mower and hit my foot. Actually, I don’t think it was a huge limb…probably just a small stick…but the force of the impact from the stick felt like it had divided my foot into two sections. I fell, had the God given sense to let go of the mower.. and screamed at Peyton to go get Ken.
Ken came running…why in the Hell was he sitting on the porch? was what ran through my mind….and helped me get my shoe and sock off. My foot was throbbing and there was a bruise already evident. Ken helped me back to the house and got an ice pack for my foot. I propped it up and put the ice pack on it and just sat there, in tears because my foot was hurting. I took the ice pack off and I couldn’t move my toes.
After a relatively quick trip to the ER….apparently here in SE Arkansas, no one goes to the ER for real emergencies. They will just wait until their doctor is available, drink enough moonshine to forget what was hurting, or ignore it….I came back home with no broken bones, just a deep tissue bruise and orders to stay off my feet as much as I can. Yeah, right. Do doctors not realize I have a 2 year old little girl who likes to snoop in everything?
So, we get home, Ken gets me settled on the couch with a movie (The Notebook), my laptop, and a cup of hot tea…and an ice pack for my foot, again.
Suddenly, my arms are itching like crazy. I look down and realize, I have these little bumps popping up on my forearms…WTH? Noooo……Yep. Poison Ivy.
That was 3.