Poor Piggy

Last night I was cautiously changing a lightbulb because when I turned on the light it went *POP* and it made me jump. As I was changing it the Beloved came up and I told him about that *POP* and that it was unpleasantly loud. Then the little wooden top of the lampshade fell off the bookcase and went *POPPPPP* on the wooden floor. I just about jumped out of my skin. Again.
My loving husband: *snort* "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I know you pooped a little!"
Which was a blatant lie and I did not take it kindly. Normally I would have given him a head slap (like Gibbs in NCIS) but he was too far away so I just randomly threw my leg up. As it flew through the air I realised that with current speed and positioning my foot would hit ... well, lets just say it's a part of the male anatomy that's rather vulnerable.
In that split second I diverted my leg which obviously was a very nice and considerate thing to do. Yay me! Except that in doing so I managed to hit him in the knee cap. With my big toe. Hard. REALLY hard.

*crunch* did my toe.

The Beloved, used to me hitting/hurting myself by accident, was laughing as I hopped through the living room, holding my foot. Hell, I was laughing too. I think. Sort of. Sure, it hurt a bit but nothing too ... and then my brain caught up with the rest of me and all of a sudden I heard this sound, this HOWL, like an animal in pain, and I realised it was ME. At this point I was hopping and crying and the Beloved was no longer laughing and I was apologising for kicking him which he thought was silly because HE wasn't hurt one bit!

The rest of the evening consisted out of me lying in bed with a cold compress on my toe feeling very sorry for myself.


It was much better this morning though I was Lady Limps-a-Lot and had to sit down a lot. Stairs are no fun whatsoever but we don't have many of those anyway. Ice still feels really good, so I'm just continuing that.