I had a horrible near-death experience, this morning, involving my big toe. The one on my right foot… not the left. The big toe on my left foot generally lies pretty low. It’s not looking for any problems, it just wants to chill… in fact I’m pretty sure that the big toe on my left foot might in fact be a pot head. Don’t tell anyone though…
The big toe on my right foot has always been a trouble-maker though. I would quote the specifics, but to be completely honest I either can’t think of any, right now… or there actually aren’t any. But, it’s my story to tell, damn it…. so I’m just gonna roll with it.
The occurrence was set into motion on Saturday. It was Daniel’s 14th birthday and some of our friends came by to BBQ and swim. As the adults, in attendance, proceeded to consume all of the alcohol within a 50 foot radius… our home became nicknamed “The House of Pain” but not in the good kind of “Jump Around” way…. it was in the bad kind of “everybody is freaking get hurt” way…. and I have to admit, that second way seems a LOT funnier when you have alcohol pulsing through your veins and ”the hurt” hasn’t happened to you… yet.
Hubs had managed to bruise his heel, while attempting to run down the diving board and bounce off his butt into the water. The down-bounce went swimmingly… the up-bounce, however, didn’t go quite as well. My Brother-in Law had his own diving board related mishap. I believe he had planned to execute a simple jog/one bounce/light splash maneuver. The slipperiness of the diving board was bored by his aspirations, however and coerced him to do a mixture of the running man, roger rabbit and the dougie…. straight off the edge of the board. Trust me, it was nowhere near as glamorous as it sounds…. especially when accompanied by his high-pitched girlish squeal. The third victim of the House of Pain was our friend Fire Marshall Bill. FMB was the only injured person who was not brought to his knees by our ornery diving board. FMB was actually trying to be a decent friend and assist Hubs in getting out of the pool… or at least that’s what it looked like from my position pool-side as myself and the other girls were attempting, unsuccessfully to take a flattering group Facebook picture. I heard the actual commotion before I saw the results… as I looked up, I saw FMB lying half-tangled in the dead thorny bushes covering our wooden fence. The fence and FMB were positioned at an awkward 45 degree angle… pointing towards the neighbor’s yard.
Two of the day’s 3 victims experienced bloodshed.
House of Pain
The remainder of the night continued without incident… its 3 casualties limped around quietly while cursing the House of Pain… and since I didn’t get hurt, I thought it was kind of hilarious. Just a little bit.
Apparently The House of Pain has patience…. I wish I would have known. Maybe I wouldn’t have mocked the boys so harshly. The next morning as I was attempting to help Hubs move The Beast’s cage back to its proper place tragedy struck. Somehow as I was lifting my side of The Beast’s massive cage my toenail on the big toe of my right foot decided that it would be much cooler to hang out in a massive dog kennel, rather than atop a cheap pink Wal Mart flip-flop… the only problem was that the big toe is a little possessive and wasn’t going to let the toenail go anywhere. This tug-of-war last approximately 1.2 seconds. I was immediately brought to my knees by the amount of pain that was swarming to my brain. I understood nothing about anything. The only thing that I could guarantee, at this time, was that everything hurt. I crawled into the bathroom… shrieking, shaking and a bunch of other dramatic things that start with the letter “s” I could hear Hub’s voice but I could not tune in enough to even care about what he was saying. I sat in the center of the bathroom cry-mumbling and flapping my arms… attempting to push the pain away from me. I finally brought myself to look at the dare-devil toe. The actual toe was still intact… but its idiot toe-nail hadn’t been so lucky. The mere sight of my flappy toenail sent me straight into another round of hysterics. Somewhere is the confusion Hubs convinced me to put Ambesol and a band-aid on it. The pain eventually began to subside, but would return in aftershocks strong enough to make my entire body jolt.
It has now been about 24 hours since my incident, the pain has finally deadened itself and I have a gaudy Angry Birds band-aid to remind me of my misfortune.
and to remind me not to scoff at the House of Pain, ever again…
Related articles
I’m sorry about your toe, but I love the way you describe the whole incident. Hilarious!
Laughing about it was the until way to curtail the impending 72-hour panic attack…