Friday, August 23, 2013

Oops.. I did it again.

Well, it's been a few months since I've been on here. I've missed it, honestly. But we've got so much going on over here: I'm now working from home, mini diva's in school, we got adopted by a kitten, my hubby's in school and got a promotion at work, and I've been going to Zumba. So.. I'm pretty much doing a lot more than I was three months ago. Oh-and I'm still keeping little Larry alive and growing. Just a short little blurb tonight: here goes nothing!

I sprained my ankle last night. There was such a loud pop and shock of pain that I was actually afraid it was broken. Even my hubby thought there was a major issue with how badly swollen it was. After three x-rays, applying a frozen bag of peas, having the best "step in" grandma ever come get the kids from the hospital, and having the doctor examine my cat scratched and unshaven legs the diagnosis was given: yeah, you're fine. Take ibuprofen and stay off it a while. Nice. I could've bought a new purse. 

The worst part of the ordeal? Having to explain how it happened. Since I'm not telling you face to face I'll spill. After putting little Larry in his chair to eat I was dancing and jumping around, entertaining him and myself, when I landing on my ankle after tripping on a grocery bag. He thought the landing was hilarious. Mini diva loved playing nurse to me. Hubby did his best to keep me from crying (partly pain, mostly shame). The best part was my husband describing my dance to the doctor. It has become glaringly obvious why I have not been recruited to be a Zumba instructor: home girl can't dance like she thinks she can.

Hey now.. at least I know I'm more of a Finkle.

I wish this was the first time I had injured myself in an embarrassing manner. When I was five I rode my bicycle off of my grandfather's porch and into the bushes. My hands were filled with splinters. Did I mention I was riding my bicycle with my eyes closed? I was. And shocked that I fell off the porch. In my head I was envisioning myself as She Ra or Rainbow Brite or some magical character that I loved. In reality, I was a klutzy five year old headed for a world of pain and shame. By the way: this is the first time I admitted what really happened. Lets keep this between us, alright? ;)

I'm sure I'm not the only person who sees themselves in a more glamorous light than we are at times. And boy, is that mirror humbling when it turns out I'm not really Jem or that super coordinated dance teacher. Eh, it's still good to be a heidiva. 

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