In walked Brownie after school yesterday. She immediately said, "Mom, can I ask you a question?" These words are part of her minute by minute questioning, so I wasn't concerned yet. She continued, "What would you say if I told you I had a staple in my foot?" Of course, my response was "DO you have a staple in your foot?" She said no and burst into tears, clear indication she HAD a staple in her foot, but she's a drama queen, ya know.
After much crying and general ballyhoo, she allowed her dad to look at her foot. Yep, there was a staple. She'd been walking around with it all day, because she's not fond of the nurse who works at the school now, and she didn't want to tell her teacher, because it's FOURTH grade now, and she didn't want to look like a baby. Ugh.
According to Hubbster, he could pull it out, but what if a piece was still in there? I agreed. Know what I was supposed to be doing? Going to work. I nearly gleefully handed him the insurance card, told him the numbers to call, kissed my little dramatic petunia on the head and went (ran) to work. Immediately after, I went to the open house for Brownie's school where I was recruiting for Girl Scouts, then met with Brownie's (long winded) teacher. Then I drove at breakneck speed to my first sales meeting for my new direct sales venture. All during this, I was getting texted updates, pictures of Brownie in a wheel chair, with her roll of stickers, as they picked up dinner at McDonald's because the clinic took so long. I didn't miss any of the experience.
When I came home, Hubbster was all TIRED from waiting and bath and homework. Hmm, maybe there is an advantage to him being out of work. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't kick him out into that cold cruel world at the hint of a job offer.
So! It was a full day round here. It was also almost exactly a year after Brownie had to have stitches in her other foot from stepping on glass. I told her she needed to mix it up next year and injure an arm. She was not amused.
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