Today, E, boy genius, bless his heart, thought he’d help out. So I’m at work, writing a hellish professional court report on a case that is a fucking mess, and I get a text message from E about him baking a cake. He’s never baked a cake before, so kudos goes to E for effort. (A little aside about the cake:  I’m not sure how it’s possible to bake a cake mix meant for a 9×13″ pan in a 8×11″ pan and have it come out 1″ thick. And have some raw, runny pockets interspersed. It was . . . interesting. I’ll have to have him teach me so I can pass along the wisdom.)

And then I have the following text message exchange (apparently I do much of my parenting via text & twitter. Geez.)  with E :

E:  I tried to do the dishes, and it ended up in kind of an I Love Lucy fashion. But I’m cleaning it up.

DM: I’m cracking up. I can only imagine. Thanks for cleaning it up.

{Naturally at this point I Twitter about it. And tell all co-workers within earshot.}

E:  Well, that’s the end of my dishwashing career.

Then I receive an image (courtesy of the working MMS on my iPhone):

Blurry but bubbly!

Blurry, yes, but what you’re looking at is my best bath towels and bubbles on the kitchen floor in front of the dishwasher.

E:  Think I used a little too much soap.

DM:  Ya think?

Later E tells me that while the dishwasher fiasco is happening, the Big D is sleeping (taking his not-so-hard-earned lazy ass daily nap). E wakes him up to tell him he’s going to mop the floors . . . kitchen & bathrooms . . . neglecting to mention it’s with the soapy, wet bath towels. The Big D mumbles something about dinosaurs wearing shoes. Yes, D is THAT helpful.

E:  The bubbles just kept coming an coming.

E:  You’re going to tell this to everyone at work, aren’t you?

Oh honey, you know me better than that.  I don’t tell people  just at work!  I Twittered!  I blogged!  Now THE WORLD knows!

Turns out E used the Dawn dishwashing liquid and not the Cascade dishWASHER liquid. And just so we’re clear, I really truly do appreciate my son so much for helping out. Thanks E! Love you!

The residual crankiness continues into the evening. I don’t know if it’s hormones, but I feel such a sense of rage tonight. I really really want to hit something. This is sooo not like me — I’m the peacekeeper, the pacifist. But right now, I have the propensity to be violent. THIS SUCKS!

So the Big D and I decided to start playing the Wii in the mornings after getting the kids off to school to get us up and moving — a little physical activity won’t hurt either of us, right? Ha!

Monday morning we set up the pad for Outdoor Challenge. We took turns which made it a competition. We did the first two sets of 3 activities — stuff like run and jump hurdles for 1 minute, steer a kayak down a white water river for a minute and a half, stomp on moles for 45 seconds . . . you get the idea. Then we decided to go again. I was running the course with the hurdles, trying to go fast (to beat DH, of course — not that I’m competitive) and I somehow managed to land on the outside of my foot rather than the bottom of it like a sane person might do. There was an awful, audible *CRACK* and freakin’ horrendous much, much pain. I actually howled and cried it hurt so bad.

As I was rolling on the floor screaming “I broke my foot!”, DH panicked. If you ever get the chance, it’s pretty entertaining to watch him run around the house in circles. He ran to the kitchen to get something frozen for my foot — bypassing the cold bag thing in there for just such occasions and brought me a bag of broccoli. Meanwhile, the freezer is wide open.

I’m laying on the living room floor with broccoli on my rapidly swelling foot screeching “You suck in a crisis!” while DH is plotting how to get me up and to the car. Gone are the days where he could carry me, I guess.

To make a long story short(er), I didn’t go to the hospital. I called my doctor and they gave me an x-ray order. I’m still awaiting the official results, but according to the doctor and the x-ray tech (who thought it was freakin’ hilarious that I broke my damned foot playing the Wii) based on the pattern of bruising and localized swelling, it appears I did break my foot.

You can’t really see the bruising in the pictures — it’s a dark purple sideways v-shape — but you can sort of see the swelling. It’s gone down a lot — I’ve been doing Reiki on it and taking anti-inflammatories. (Dang I need a pedicure!!!)

So, the bottom line is that we did about 10 minutes of activity this week. What is it that they say about the best laid plans?!