Do The Baked Potato

I'm behind in posts by a few days and am working my ways backwards and forwards simultaneously. Which brings us to Thursday evening.

When Sis stubbed her toe.

It sounds innocuous enough, but it ripped open part of her nail bed and burst the surrounding tissue. Her big toe looks just like an overbaked potato. Yep, even down to the flap of white flesh. Gross, huh?

And we didn't even know she'd hurt herself in the first place. She was running down the sidewalk and her shoe went flying off. She was upset but got the shoe back on and basically proceeded home without hesitation. It was only when she got home that she apparently took off her shoe and started to scream. Bloody mess. Literally.

Mama Teacher was here and distracted Bud while I tried to clean up and figure out what was going on. And because it was after 5, Mama headed home and we decided to send Sis to the walk-in just in case . . . .

At home, Bud fretted about "what they were doing to Sis right now" as we played dress up ("Mom, you need to be fancy," he said. So I put on an old bridesmaid's gown) and danced around a homemade "harvest pole." He also drew a picture of the ordeal, with Sis's striped stocking feet splayed on the paper like the Wicked Witch of the West, her big toe colored in bright red.

Meanwhile, Sis was apparently a still and serious patient, sitting quietly while the doctor examined and very carefully cleaned the toe, which did not require stitches. Thankfully.

Mama and Sis were home around 7:30, with dinner in hand. Bud was very concerned about Sis and latched onto the new toe rules: no jumping, no running, no getting wet. He apparently spent the whole next day at school and on the bus telling people about her toe and trying to make her follow the rules, which she was quite capable of doing herself. It drove her mad. Especially because he gets upset if you mention his own experience of injuries. And she really didn't like his drawing.

Of course, I'd warned everyone via email, from the teacher to the nurse all the way up to the principal, because she would be breaking dress code in her sandal-y shoes. And then, I even checked in on her when I volunteered at the library on Friday morning.

I guess we've all been traumatized by previous injuries, though, obviously least of all, Sis, who ignored us all in stride and has been healing just fine, thank you very much.