…then this dreaded cast comes off my wrist.
My daughters are thrilled. No need for them to help me with the washing up now. Mff.
Maybe I should threaten to break another bone.
Hi all, as you may have heard, my next book is almost ready for publishing. The delay is as a result of me breaking my wrist.
How did I break it, you ask?
Well, I would like to say I broke it cage fighting or kickboxing or while trying to karate chop my ex-husband…something interesting like that.
Alas, that is not the case. I broke it on father’s day.
See, my ex-husband was coming to visit and he was bringing his bulging wallet with. So, I figured, I would tidy the place a bit to impress him, in the hopes I could relieve him of the bulge in his pocket. (The wallet! I meant the wallet!)
So, I scurried around and threw stuff under the bed, inside cupboards and behind door, out of sight, like I usually do, when getting visitors I want to impress.
The main bathroom doesn’t have a bed to throw stuff under, for some reason, so I was forced to tidy it. So, yelling at my two daughters for being so untidy, I proceeded to toss out almost-empty shampoo and conditioner bottles. Some conditioner dropped on the tiled floor and I stepped on it and found myself almost break-dancing on the floor. Of course, I tried to break my fall with my hand and I ended up breaking my wrist.
My daughters rushed to my aid, muttering something about my yelling at them and Karma, but I I got back at them by making them spend the rest of the day with me in ER. Oh, and I got most of the bulging wallet so it was all good in the end.