This little piggy cried wee-wee-wee

Yesterday morning, while preparing to attend the junior's ring chapel program, I needed to iron some pants. Our master walk-in closet is large enough that I'm able to keep the ironing board open at all times, with the iron sitting on top of it. And the cord dangling on the floor. You'd think by 50 that I'd know better.

So I had turned on the iron and fetched some clean clothes on hangers in the laundry room to hang up. As I walked over to my side of the closet, my left foot got tangled in the iron cord. Therein ensued this sort of arm swinging, trying to catch my balance ballet where the iron and ironing board hit the floor. Thankfully, I was saved from the same. Barely.

I can't swear that I did any shouting, but there was certainly some cursing afterwards. I was still hopping around on the right foot because the left was throbbing. I had to finish getting ready to make it to the ring chapel on time, so I dashed out of the house with mother in tow.

As you could see in my post from yesterday, ring chapel was lovely. However, by the time I had walked from the school's chapel to the parking lot, my left foot was still hurting. Specifically, the area between my pinkie and fourth toe. I took a look after complaining about the pain to my mother, and found it was already bruising. By the time we got home from lunch, my toe was swollen and had turned purple. 

I hobbled around for some house chores like dishwasher duty that the teen didn't do, but then gave up and got off my feet. This morning it still hurts to try and move the toe. I ordered some of that self-adhesive medical wrap to do the buddy toe thing until it feels better. That's the trick with broken toes. No satisfying way to address the issue other than wrapping it up and just waiting for it to feel better. Toe-tally a bummer!