Got off to a very normal start. Snuggle-tickling in the bed with Alden, sustaining a painful blow to the eye area from Alden’s forehead, but undaunted, until I absolutely positively HAD to get up and get to work. Got to work just after 8.
At 8:30, my phone buzzed. Josh texted, Call me. Alden fell off the trail-a-bike, finger hurt. We’re home, icing it.
I called him. Alden had toppled off the trail-a-bike just a block or two from home. Alden had been shrieking in pain, and they were icing it. Panicky thoughts– Oh, crap– I broke my hand in a fall off a bike and didn’t get it looked at and my pinky is hinky forever because of it! Oh crap, I can ‘t miss work, I’m already taking an unpaid day on Friday. Oh crap, Josh can’t miss work, cause he HAS work! Oh crap, we need to be ready to take him in if we need to. Oh crap, insurance, yadda yadda yadda.
So I sit tight, and at 9:00 I get the message, we’re going to school. Seems OK.
At 9:35 I get the message, Just dropped Alden off. We ran out of gas on the way. Walked. Now heading home. I texted back, sweetheart, I am SO sorry…
At 9:45 I walked into the front office and the receptionist gave me a double take. Are you OK? Do you have a black eye? Me: What? NO… Her: Um… yes you do.
I went to the bathroom and looked, and sure as shit— black eye!! Alden must have hit me in just the right spot. I’ve never had a black eye before. So odd.
I don’t know.
Some days you just need to roll with it.