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Little piggy stayed home, but I’m not

3 min read

You would think that after nearly drowning in the Youghiogheny River last week I would stay far, far away from the water. You’d be wrong.

Last Sunday, I went to the Settler’s Cabin wave pool. I was trying to squeeze out the last juices of summer before Labor Day hit and the pools closed.

Luckily, this particular weekend I spent more time above the water than under it. That’s a good thing.

Sure, I was kicked in the head by a few kids on inner tubes, but that is a hazard of the venue.

I had to leave around 5. I had to be somewhere at 7.

I was on my towel, drying off in the sun, when I realized it was getting precariously close to 5 o’clock. I jumped up.

That’s when I heard the familiar and sickening CLICK, followed by pain. Plenty of pain.

Here’s the deal: I broke a toe standing up.

I. Broke. A. Toe. Standing. Up.

Yes. I’m an idiot. There’s no other explanation.

I broke “the piggy who stayed home,” right next to the one that goes to the market.

It’s the second toe I’ve broken. A few years ago, I broke “the piggy who had roast beef” on a coat rack.

For the record, that’s a difficult toe to break because it’s right there in the middle. Smack dab.

By the way, toes are weird.

As a species, we’ve sort of evolved past the need for them. That’s why no one’s ever bothered naming toes. If they did have names, the newly broken one would be my index toe.

For some reason, it’s slightly longer than the big toe but not nearly as wide. I have no idea why it needs to be longer.

I have several holes in my socks where this particular toe tried to escape. I suppose I should also clip my toenails more frequently.

The good news is that it only hurts when I wiggle it. So, I’ve been trying not to wiggle it. It’s pretty easy compared to other appendages that are far more easily wiggled or adjusted.

I don’t really move my toes around a lot, unlike my wiggling fingers furiously flying over the keyboard as I type this very sentence.

I don’t really use my toes for anything.

Occasionally, I’ll use the toes on my right foot to scratch my left leg, and vice versa. Other than that, they just fill out the ends of my shoes.

I’m convinced the only real reason people need toes is so they can wear flip flops. By the way, I don’t have a phobia or anything, but I’m not a fan of feet.

I don’t like seeing other people’s toes, and I wouldn’t want anyone to see mine, especially now. It really is multicolored.

The good news is I have eight that I have never broken.

There’s nothing you can do for a broken toe. You just have to let it heal and avoid smacking it into other objects. It’s not going to stop me from doing stuff. Unlike the toe in question, I don’t like to stay home.

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