Ok, so... maybe on Friday morning a suit of armor with razor sharp edges carved a 3-inch-long slice across my shoulder. (Walking through a dance studio on the morning after a performance is taking your life in your hands, people.)
...but at least it was a clean cut!
Ok, so... maybe instead of heading to my cabin with 15 friends/kiddos, I was calling every Urgent Care center in the greater Seattle area to find someone who would stitch me up on a holiday.
...but at least the ONE that was actually open didn't have a line, plus I ended up skipping the stitches and making it out alive with steri-strips and a tetanus shot. I even got to the cabin in time for inner-tube rides and s'mores.
Ok, so... maybe our toddler was vomiting all through the wee hours of Saturday morning at the cabin, and maybe Daddy had to take him home to rest so they both missed the 4th of July festivities on the beach.
...but at least no one else got sick. We think he may have eaten something off the beach that didn't agree with him. I'm choosing not to think about what that might have been.
Ok, so... maybe I slipped at my friend's house on Sunday morning and fell head-long down a set of concrete steps, and maybe I scraped the skin off my palms, shins, knees, and feet, and maybe I had to go home and change so that people wouldn't walk into worship and say "Dear God, what happened to that poor girl on the way to church this morning!"
...but at least I didn't chip a tooth or break my wrist or have to go back to Urgent Care for any reason, and at least my friends administered some first-rate first-aid, and at least the dang weekend is over now and hopefully I can keep myself from tripping down a well or getting mauled by a wall-hanging, at least until next 4th of July.
[Alright, so I guess that did include a lot of over-dramatized details. But surely you've come to expect that from me by now.]
This is the picture WITH the bandages. You really don't want to see the one without them, trust me.
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