Broken Toe, Rambunctious Children, Shit Combination

I broke my toe over Chinese New Year. It was the weirdest thing. Steve and I were sitting on the couch and we noticed a flying insect. You don’t get too many flying things in Singapore so it gets your attention. Then we realised it was a bee, but when we looked up, it wasn’t just one bee, we had a swarm flying into our home. Shite!

Up we jumped, I grabbed the insect killer and ran around closing doors and windows. That’s when it happened. Moving briskly out of our bathroom, I slammed my toe right into a clothes rack with metal legs, and it hurt, like really really. But I had doors and windows to close, so I kept going, and as I moved around the house, I started saying ow, ow, ow, OW!! Oh my god it hurt. Toe stubs usually hit hard and fast but then it goes. However this was different – it was a grower, and my word it blossomed into a world of pain.

That was it – a fucked toe – SO annoying! It got fatter and fatter and fatter, and it wasn’t ‘til a month later I thought hey, maybe an x-ray would be a good idea? That’s when I got that little photo taken to discover I did, in fact, break it. On the mend now, but crikey, who knew how much a toe could hurt? The reason I didn’t do anything about my toe is what’s the point? Every time I’ve had anything foot related checked out by the doctor, they just tend to look at you with a little shrug and say keep it up and ice it, that’s all you can do – right?

However my main discovery of the experience has been how bloody vulnerable toes are around children. We are fully accustomed to the culture of removing shoes when entering our home in Asia. We actually quite like it and believe it will follow us wherever we go, unless that place is cold and then we’ll wear Ugg boots. In the meantime, bare feet and clumsy children – oh my GOD!

Jax landed a beauty on my toe recently and the most common utterance in the house this last month has been “watch my toe, WATCH MY TOE!” But they’re seven and eight right, and there’s something spectacularly unaware in kids this age. They stumble around, standing on your feet, hitting their dad in the nuts, smacking me in the boobs, knocking things over, breaking things, and just creating unintentional chaos. That’s a kid’s job. But who knew how often your toes were a battleground for children?

Well I do now and I’m certainly looking forward to this baby healing – mainly so I stop panicking every time my boys come anywhere near me. I’m also hoping it’s not going to be one of those aches that curses me into my dotage. That’s definitely one of the things you think about as you start getting crusty around the edges. One thing for sure though, the next time the bees come, I won’t be so focused on their eradication. I’m not allergic, so who cares? A bee sting or two would have been a lot nicer to deal with.

Ho hum, there you have it. Anyone else in Singapore have a swarm of bees descend on their apartment? Not normal right?

Yours, without the bollocks

Andrea
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