If it ain't broke...

They'll put a cast on it anyways!

I took a flying leap off of a curb (a very high, very dangerous, evil curb) on Friday evening. By Saturday morning, it had swelled so bad it looked like I had a baseball implanted in my ankle. $75 later, I had a clean x-ray, ace bandage and a promise from a doctor that it was "fine", just a mild sprain. "Follow up with your primary care doctor just to be sure." he said. I should have known then he was a complete moron. Three days later, my baseball had grown to the size of a softball. My regular doctor sent me straight to the orthopaedic who confirmed that the ER doctor was in fact, a complete dumbass. I apparently completely tore through all of the ligaments in my ankle. So now, I'm in a cast. A real cast. At least it's pink so it's not TOO ugly...but still. I thought when I turned 18 without ever having to have a "real" cast, I was home free. After I gave birth to a baby boy, I thought for sure all future ER visits and casts would be reserved for him and him alone.

But no, I had to go and be a rebel and stick my own self in a cast at 24 years old. I feel like a complete idiot!!

In other news, the kidlet has me totally figured out. He knows that I can't chase after him, so when I tell him no, he just picks up whatever he's doing and goes into the other room. Yes, I birthed a genius. Let's hope he puts all those brains to good use and becomes a doctor or something.