All you need is love… or at least some sympathy

November 8, 2012

Me: How do you know if you’ve broken your toe?

Mimi: It’s excruciating. You. Know. If. You’ve. Broken. Your. Toe.

Me: It hurts, but I wouldn’t call it excruciating.

Mimi: You haven’t broken it then. Or either the couple of glasses of wine you’ve had have dulled the pain.

When Mimi makes digs about my wine consumption, I ignore her. She’s just jealous that her constitution isn’t as strong as mine.

We have a rule at Maison Bean. Before you come in the door, you must sign a waiver relinquishing your rights in the event of an injury or an illness incurred on the premises. This was a preemptive measure I instituted as a new mother when it dawned on me the unusual hazard my two young offspring presented.

By nature they spew contagions and leave little germy toys scattered about. Add to that two geriatric hounds whose naps constitute pedestrian obstacles, and, voila, you’ll find an ambulance-chasing TV lawyer drumming up his personal injury caseload on your doorstep.

After our guests have signed the waiver, we teach them the Bean Shuffle. The Bean Shuffle is a slow, but safe, means of walking whereby you walk without lifting your feet from the floor–you shuffle. It’s safe and prevents you from tripping…. It can be done in the dark, and it’s 100 percent foolproof.

The problem on Thursday night was that fortified by a mere glass of chardonnay and with no accidents to remind me to be careful, I got careless and went bounding through the living room in the dark where I encountered an errant ottoman. It was dark. I felt like I’d rammed my foot into a brick wall. I hopped up and down muttering obscenities.

It hurt, but it was far from giving birth. With no sympathy from Mimi and Papa (Papa was nursing his own wounds), I took a handful of ibuprofen, went to bed and forgot about it temporarily.

When Friday morning arrived, I began to think that there might actually be some merit to Mimi’s wine-dulling-the-pain barb. My toe hurt, and I was walking like Fred Sanford.

I took another handful of ibuprofen and called the orthopedic surgeon’s office at the university hospital. The orthopedic  surgeon’s office was not impressed with my emergency and advised me to go to Urgent Care.

Whilst I ruminated, I drove… not to Urgent Care… to the Nail Palace where I got a *gentle* pedicure.

Thus presentable, I drove myself to Urgent Care. Urgent Care took an x-ray, appropriately ooohed and ahhed over my poor–but pedicured–toe, gave me a hideous boot to wear and a lovely prescription for pain and sent me on my way home–all for $16.

Notwithstanding the garish boot, it was a pleasant experience. But it was actually back home at Maison Bean that I found unexpected sympathy.

On seeing my orthopedic boot, Moose, my little doctor in the making, crouched down, examined my foot carefully before proffering a tender little Moose kiss on top of my poor injured toe.


Irene November 8, 2012 at 7:09 am

Cracks me up that you went and had it “pedicured” before going to Urgent Care! It’s a woman thing. Men wouldn’t understand. I hope it feels better soon. It’s part of being a parent running into rogue furniture that wasn’t there a few hours before hand. It happens to the best of us. I can sympathize!

Irene November 8, 2012 at 7:11 am

Oh, it’s good to see you! Miss your posts!

Jenn November 8, 2012 at 10:17 am

Thanks for coming to visit, Irene! I’m trying to get back into the writing groove… but there’s homework to be done, laundry to be washed, birthday parties to attend, soccer games to be played… and wine to be drunk.

xoxo, Jenny

Pamela November 8, 2012 at 1:46 pm

Well THERE she is, broken (pedicured, kissed) toe and all! Nice to see you 🙂

Nicole November 8, 2012 at 1:53 pm

I have been missing you! The paragraph “By nature they spew contagions and leave little germy toys scattered about. Add to that two geriatric hounds whose naps constitute pedestrian obstacles, and, voila, you’ll find an ambulance-chasing TV lawyer drumming up his personal injury caseload on your doorstep.” made my day. Like I read it several times to let myself bask in the awesomeness and let the cleverness and hilarity waft over me and envelope me like precious comedic woobie. You da man. Give my love to the fam.

Rebecca November 8, 2012 at 2:22 pm

A kiss always makes the boo-boo all better! Glad to see you back!

Kristy K. James November 8, 2012 at 2:56 pm

OUCH! Oh I hate it when that happens. Toes were not meant to be stopped that abruptly. Kind of like your head is not when you forget to close a cupboard door…

Glad Moose and the medical personnel at urgent care responded appropriately to your injury. In my life I believe I’ve had two broken toes. Once when a cousin handed me a can to put away…only she didn’t wait until I actually had the can in my hand before she let go (to this day I think she did it on purpose). It was my middle toe that time. Another time I was walking (quickly) barefoot in the dark in a parking area area…and my little toe found a crack in one of the railroad ties set around the perimeter of the lot. In fact, it almost felt like target practice…and I passed with flying colors. I’m a lot more careful how I walk now. In fact, with my daughter’s bazillion cats, I do my own version of the Bean Shuffle in my house in the dark, arms outstretched, hoping to grab a wall, doorway…or air…in case I bump one of them.

Nice to have you back, Jenny. Hope your toe feels better soon. 🙂

portia November 8, 2012 at 6:53 pm

Girl, I send you much toe-sympathy. You know I have had no less than 3 broken baby toes, all involving chairs.( and you won’t believe this, but none involved wine: didn’t need much wine back in the childless days) I’m sure I did not get my feet prettified before going to the doc….hurt too much to care. But I would have recovered quicker with a sweet baby kiss. AND I had to go to a wedding with that hideous boot thing on. I had to go shopping for a dress that did not clash……….

Ally November 8, 2012 at 7:00 pm

Awww, what a sweet little Moose 🙂

Betsy/Zen Mama November 9, 2012 at 6:09 am

Always love seeing your name pop up in the email! If it makes you feel any better, I walked into the wall the other night. It was pitch black in the middle of the night and I turned too soon and half my face got smacked. I couldn’t figure out why I had a headache in the morning only on one side. It took me a little while to remember!

Hope you’re ok now and at least your toe looked pretty!!

papa November 9, 2012 at 8:47 pm


I was in great sympathy for your plight till today when I discovered my end-of-the-world-is-coming emergency wine stash was missing some nice vintages.

Now I just smile when I see that stupid boot they got you wearing.


Jenn November 11, 2012 at 9:00 am

Ladies: thanks for your sweet comments.

Papa: I was dead broke and slumming when I drank your stash. Boxed wine does not come in “nice vintages.” And I’m serious when I say slumming.

You know times are hard when you find yourself out in your garage in disguise drinking boxed wine in the dark.

xoxo, Jenny

portia November 15, 2012 at 9:05 am

don’t hate the box!!

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