Oh! The drama!

Yesterday was domestic day here in the Balsam house.

Miss and I had planned a whole day of cooking.

We made wheat bread, banana bread, rice crispy squares, and no bake cookies

(the latter ended up in the trash... bummer.)

We also roasted potato's, bbq'd steak and veggies.

There were many more goodies and tasks on the list, but as the day progressed

my feet swelled and swelled until the size and discomfort sucked the motivation out of me.

When Ray came home he was exhausted from lack of sleep. (He doesn't sleep well anyway, and he now shares space with an uncomfortable- need to pee every two minutes- snoring {that's new}, swelled up -me.) So he ate dinner and went to bed.

After that things kinda fell apart.

My further baking attempts all went to the can for various reasons.

The can- now overflowing- needed to go out.

Upon taking out said bag of trash and baking oopsies I approached the security door.

The trash bag was quite heavy and the stupid door requires two hands.

So I plopped down the bag (forgetting about the broken glass in the bottom)

right

on

my

naked

hippie

foot.

UGH!

I made my way quickly to the can and back to the door leaving blood the whole way.

Hmmm, what to do? The thought of wiping blood off the floor in the house really didn't appeal.

So I call Miss to please bring me a napkin.

In the time it takes Miss to find and bring said napkin I am now standing in a puddle of foot blood.

Did I mention that Miss can NOT handle any type of blood, scratches, anything injury related??

I warned her that I had cut my foot and I was fine, just not to look at my foot.

Ya, that went well.

She looked.

She freaked.

She began screaming.

She threw the napkin at me and ran away.

Realizing I needed a towel I asked the now traumatized five year old to please get Daddy to get me a towel.

This is how she woke him.

{Bedroom door flies open. Miss is pale and freaking out. "Daddy, come quick! Mom is bleeding bad! It is everywhere! Hurry she needs you NOW! It's bleeding- get towels- ahhhhhhh" tears}

I am yelling from the front door- "It's really no big deal... I am fine, just need a towel."

Now comes Ray.

{"Where is she?" Yanking on his jeans hopping through the kitchen "What happened?"Looks like he is looking for the murder scene}

Again I call from the door (as the pool of blood grows) "I just need a towel guys, I don't want to bleed on the floor, I am fine, really."

By this point Miss is a weeping ball on the couch.

I finally get a towel and wrap my foot.

The whole thing was cured with a standard band-aid.

Ray went back to bed.

.....

Miss may or may not need counseling.