Early Saturday morning, Hubster is in a panic because he cannot find his work badge. He wakes me up to help him and I'm running around the house stumbling over things and not having any luck. While there is a bigger issue with Hubs not putting things back in the same place, our house can be the Bermuda Triangle at times.
Long story short, I threw a temper tantrum and slammed the kitchen cabinet three times. On the last slam, it broke and splintered with a giant portion falling and plunging into the top of my foot. I was able to stop the bleeding just as Hubs had to leave for work. Then I wrapped it up and hobbled my way to the truck, drove myself to the hospital (note that it was my left foot and I had to use the clutch, which was INSANELY painful) and hobbled my way into the ER.
They removed the wood debris, took some x-rays to confirm nothing was broken, then gave me a tetanus shot. The worst part was when they stuck a needle into the open wound to numb it up for stitching.
Karma's a bitch.
And we never found his badge.
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