22 February 2016


Was running around getting ready for Pilates this evening and caught my foot on what I assumed was a splinter in the dining room. Hobbled along the high street to class, in such a rush that I didn't really notice the pain, but when I kicked my Uggs off I saw that my heel was bleeding slightly. Ouch. 
Managed to bend and stretch my way (clumsily) through class, hobbled back home and investigated...guess who had a chunk of glass sticking out of her bloody foot?
Am now drinking wine for medicinal purposes and cursing Husband who decided that stacking Peroni bottles on the bottom shelf of the fridge was a sane idea (when I unpacked the shopping on Sunday one jumped out and smashed all over the kitchen floor...I guess glass travels quite a long way...)
Just thankful it was my foot and not one of those precious, pink, fat little ones that scamper round all day long. Then Husband would be sleeping in the shed!!

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