solidarity

I spent yesterday morning cheerfully cleaning up the house.  I adore my vacuum, which should be odd to admit, but I am well aware of how much it is my right hand!

Zooming around conquering dust, dog hair and other debris of daily life,  I enthusiastically pulled my friend toward me, and...

Two years ago I dropped a chair I was carrying on my foot.  I had never seen a toenail bleed like that.  Yuck!  Sure enough, goodbye big toe nail.  My left big toe took its sweet time regrowing that nail.  It took a year!

You see where I am going with this?

Cringe now.

Are you done?  Here is the story:

Pulling my friend Fred the vacuum toward me {he is named Fred because we make beautiful music dancing together.  Fred Astaire, that is.  True fact.} I accidentally yanked a bit hard and smashed our very heavy dirt-abating machine into my left foot.

My left big toe, to be precise.

Upon looking down as I hopped about in pain, looking much the fool, I saw the battle wound.

Toenail standing upright saluting me.  Hanging on, as they say, by a thread.  In this case, the thread being a small part of the nail on the right.

This is so gross!

Okay.  Fast forward.  I've now spent the day in a giant bandage and sturdy flip flops.  And I've soaked my little wound in Emma Kate's antiseptic from her past surgery.  I've trimmed so my toe wasn't being impaled.  And my poor toe is now getting fresh air while I tuck the girls into bed.

Wait.  Rewind.  Earlier in the day, I whispered to Jim that I was pretty sure this nail might not re-grow.  And I told him that a huge part of me hoped it would not.  I know he thought I was a bit daft.  Explaining myself, I shared that if it didn't regrow, then I could have a toe that looked like some of Emma Kate's toes: cute toe, no nail.  And somehow I thought that might be sweet for her.

It sounds odd, perhaps.  But that is just the truth.

Back to bedtime.

I'm tucking the girls, and as girls are, they are very concerned for me.  There was wound examination, empathy stories, sympathetic kisses on my face.

At one point with big, sad eyes Emma whispered, "Mom, I'm so worried for you."

I explained how even though it hurt I was going to be just fine!  It was not a big deal.  That my toe would heal up and either a new nail would grow or I would just not have a nail at all.

And Emma Kate?  Her eyes lit up.

"Mom!  Then your toe would be just like mine."

"Oh, Emma Kate.  I'm hoping for a toe as beautiful as yours," I replied; with all truth in my heart.

Sweet Emma Kate.

If Cooper can break an arm in solidarity, surely a lost toenail barely even "breaks" even.  Pun intended.

I'll make sure to keep you updated on progress.  :)