They like to stay in their personal suite.
Which happens to be parked in our driveway.
I was in our trailer making the bed for them, I figured I'd better wash all the Moab sand off the sheets for them (post on our long weekend Moab trip tomorrow. Stories. Do I ever have stories. Have you ever taken a shovel of sand straight to the face? At 30 miles an hour? Stories. Tomorrow.). I sat and talked about how Great Grandma Johnson came over to America from Sweden without knowing a lick of English with Grandpa Dick and Brynn, who has a school project to do on the subject. I went into the house and bent to get a plastic sack from under the sink when...
I couldn't bend over. My lower back was in so much pain.
I have no idea what I did.
I didn't do anything.
I was just going to suck it up and took some ibuprofen to help easy the muscles.
But then Brynn decided to fall while roller blading outside.
And she injured her wrist enough that I felt it warranted a trip to instacare.
And since we were there for her, I put my name on the list too.
Brynn has a possible fracture right above (below?) her wrist. The radiologist will call today and let me know if the line the doctor was seeing really is a fracture or not. If it is, we'll have to call the orthopedic to see if it warrants a cast or just keep using the brace that we got from instacare.
We visit instacare far too often. Usually it's just with ear infections or UTI's before we got a steady pediatrician.
And for The Man who is accident prone.
It's amazing to me how much of my stuff is stored below waist height. I feel completely useless.
And forget shaving my legs.
Sorry babe.
