There was a time in my life when I looked at kids with casts in envy. A trophy of an experience that must have been so amazing, yet was unattainable for me. To walk into class with a clean canvas on my arm or leg, to have kids sign and decorate at recess - how cool would that be?
But due to a vigilant guardian angel or Irish luck it was not meant to be.
Soon I was busy keeping children out of harm and avoiding risks. Hell, I even quit smoking to avoid harm.
Okay, I did bungee jump, scuba dive, and brave some rope swing plunges into murky depths among other acts of fun as a mother - but largely I have focused on safety.
So either my guardian angel took a hiatus or my luck is running low. How else does a walk across the bedroom turn into this miserable, limiting cast from the tips of my fingers to halfway to my elbow?
You laugh. I know. My own husband laughs. But you try wiping your bottom with the wrong hand. He says "It could be worse." But really, what argument is that? I didn't survive a horrible car accident or shark attack. I went to the dang bathroom! How could that be worse?
I have less than 2 weeks left until school. This week was scheduled to be busy. Summer cleaning - moving furniture busy. Preparing to neglect my house for a long semester
And the worst part? They aren't even smooth enough to decorate anymore!
