Michael is always and forever banging his toes into things- chairs, walls, cabinets, corners. Whenever he smashes his toe for, like, the 20th time in a week I tell him I have no sympathy for him because the walls, chairs, etc have not moved and it is his own damn fault. (I don't always use profanity). Four days before Christmas I smashed my foot into the underside of the recliner and broke my left baby toe. It got all swollen and bruised and still hurts. In a sad and tragic twist of fate I was putting stuff into the pantry yesterday and, as I walked across the kitchen, I slammed my right foot into the floorboard and actually heard the bones break in my right baby toe. Michael says it is karma. I say I am my podiatrist's 401K's best friend. My new name is Mrs. Gimpy Vonlimp.
I was going to include a picture of my mangled toe, but it was too disgusting and I would lose too many friends as a result. In lieu of the photographic image of my pain, please enjoy this picture of everything we received for Christmas.
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