I’m kind of getting annoyed at the internet. Sometimes it’s just too much. Too much information. Too many pictures of perfectly decorated houses and well-coiffed women. Too many ways to make quinoa [don’t get me wrong, I love quinoa]. Why so serious, internet?
So here’s my contribution to making the internet take itself less seriously. To adding real things. To not spending all my time telling everybody how awesome I am.
I made a mistake this week. I always schedule my dentist appointment on President’s Day so Chuck can stay home with the kids. I think my appointment was made on the date of President’s Day last year. This year, unfortunately, that fell on a plain ‘ole Thursday when school was most definitely in session. Adding to the can’t-catch-a-break-ness of the sitch was the fact that the appointment was too close to Landon’s school start time for me to drop the gang off anywhere.
So the four of us went to my dentist appointment. A 30-, 5-, 3-, and 1-year-old. Together. But it’s okay, guys. My dental hygenist is super great. I’ve been going to her since I moved here. Nearly a decade! The appointments are [usually] so relaxing, like you’re just chatting with a friend.
So my tag-alongs made it less relaxing than usual. But not bad. Snacks and iPads can right a lot of wrongs, amiright!?
Since I led with the punch line, I’ll get to it.
My DH is telling me this terrible story.
She was camping with her family and decided one morning to take a 3-wheeler out to explore. She came upon a turtle and stopped to pick it up. Her grandkids were back at the camp and she knew they’d love to see it. So she put the turtle on her lap and started driving back. She hit a bump and looked down to check on the turtle. Unfortunately, when she looked down she missed the second bump. She flew backwards off the vehicle, with the vehicle landing on top of her [I told you this was a terrible story!]. She passed out, obvs.
She listed out her extensive injuries including breaking her clavicle and needing staples to put skin back in the right places. She told me she missed six weeks when one of her gashes got infected. I’m laying there with my mouth open thinking, “Oh my gosh, this is so terrible!”
And then she said, “But don’t worry: the turtle was okay. He was wearing his helmet.”
And with my mouth stuffed with instruments aplenty, my nose betrayed me.
I mean, she didn’t mean that as such a punch line, right?! Why is that so funny!? The turtle was wearing his helmet… Ooof.