A purple big toe

by Katie on February 27, 2009

About mid-morning yesterday, Brandon limped into the house for breakfast. He had already been out irrigating and shuffling employees around, and had time to injure himself in the process. Turns out he dropped a large piece of concrete right on top of his big toe.

After hobbling around on it all day, he greets me that evening with, “Katie, I know you’re clumsy, and not graceful at all, but I really, REALLY need you to not touch my toe tonight.”

I cringe, because no matter how hard I try, I always seem to forget which side the current wound is located on, or trip and land right on a bruise, or grab a bandaged hand – which he also had last night. Something about trying to run a screwdriver through his hand…

So I respond, hesitantly, “Okay…I’ll try…really hard, but you know I always mess up…”

And he just starts shaking his head, “No, trying isn’t going to work this time. My toe is jacked, and it hurts. You know what? I think I’m just going to stay three feet away from you all night.”

But we all know that didn’t last.

Just for redemption here, I may be the clumsy one who loses her balance standing on a flat surface for no reason, walks into walls, trips over anything lying in my path, and forgets the exact location of others’ injuries. But Brandon’s (frequent) accidents always result in some sort of self-mutilation – numerous stabbing incidents, hand burnings with the torch, the new purple toe, etc. I don’t mind bumping into a few walls, as long as I’m keeping all my appendages in tact.


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