Stick the Landing
There won’t be a post today. The lady that I married fell and sprained her ankle, so I’m Stay at Home Dad and Stay at Home Husband today. There’s no hour of solitude (escape from the baby) because a hobbled woman is no match for my daughter. She had her leg elevated on the ottoman and my daughter began the first wave of her attack by picking up the bag of frozen peas on her ankle and dropping it back down from various heights. Wave Two was the old “climb up on mommy, starting with her ankle” routine. Finally, she just stopped being discreet and picked up one of the crutches and started banging her in the ankle with it (Tonya Harding in the making).
I won’t lie and say that I’m not worn out and completely spent, but I’m gonna do for her what I wish had been done for me. I already wrote about my family’s views on illness and injury: Unless it’s something that won’t grow back or heal before you die…keep it movin! I’m trying to get away from the old Allen remedies of baking soda, epsom salt and green menthol alcohol. Instead, I’m trying some of this fancy 21st century stuff like icing, bandaging, elevating and staying off the injured ankle. If that means that I have to wait on her hand and foot then so be it.
I was telling her how I sprained my ankle about a mile away from my house in high school and still had to go to the Safeway to pick up some stuff for my grandmother. I used the fences along the way to support my weight (and the two bags I was carrying) as I hopped all the way home. So please understand that when Kerri Strugg landed on one foot during the vault, I didn’t see the big deal. My grandmother would’ve made her go do a floor exercise right after.
So, no post…Hopefully we’ll resume tomorrow.