Okay, on to the rest of my saga. I finished the ever-so-joyful trip to the doctor's office, and was headed to Wal-Mart. Surprisingly enough, the Wal-Mart trip was uneventful, with the exception of a few crazies who were unaware of shopping cart pushing etiquette. I was shocked that they actually had everything on my list in stock, 'cause that just NEVER happens.
We left there and ran through the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru.
$7.13 for a salad and a tea?? Since when!?
We dropped the prescription off at the pharmacy drive-thru with the expectation that hubs will pick it up on his way home (he's so sweet!).
Then we get home. LO is hungry. I bring her and the groceries in (in separate trips, mind you. I'm no superwoman!), get her out of her seat and let her run (i.e. crawl) wild on the kitchen floor while I'm putting everything away.
As I'm kneeling on the floor in front of the freezer, trying desperately to cram a few things in there, I see her next to me somehow completely lose all sense of gravity (yes, while on her hands and knees) and somehow she does a face plant into our ceramic tile floor. Of course she's crying from the shock and pain, so I pick her up to console her like a good Mommy would.
She chills out a bit, so I kneel down near the freezer again, this time balancing her on my knees so she could "help" me put stuff away. I'm trying to put a few frozen dinners in the freezer, and the next thing I know, Daddy's rainbow sherbet comes flying at us at warp speed from a few shelves up. My spidey reflexes take over and I try to shield LO from the brunt of the impact, but it still ends up pummelling her tiny little baby ankle before ricocheting through the air, the sharp edge then implanting into my foot before completing it's mission of reaching the kitchen floor. By this time, LO is way freaking out 'cause durn it--that had to hurt! I was reeling in my own pain, stood up, and tried to close the freezer door. Unfortunately the rainbow sherbet had lodged itself between the floor and the bottom of the door. A few swift kicks of my already throbbing foot and it goes sailing towards the laundry room as I am finally able to close the door.
I am again consoling LO, mumbling to myself in pain, and scrutinizing the array of frozen foods laying all over the floor in front of the freezer. I decide it's time to feed LO and walk away, not caring one single bit if that durn half-gallon of Southern Home rainbow sherbet melts away into an extravaganza of multicolored soup-goo.
Oh, hubs, come home soon. I need to be consoled with a big ol' hug after the day I've had.