A Tale of a Fallen Pinky.

The sea was angry that day, my friend...

Not really but the sky was overcast as I walked out of playgroup on an assuming Tuesday afternoon. With my son balanced on my left hip, I tossed the diaper bag into the passenger seat and slammed the door, and my littlest finger still in the line of danger, and heard the door click shut. And I ripped out my finger from the door and I screamed a bad word in front of my son and ran back into the house with Henry on my hip to ask for ice and assistance.

Tis a sad sight, my friends. Adam thinks I broke the tip of it because it is black and swollen all the way around.

AND, I am in NO WAY dramatic about it, at all. I am not at all like Michael Scott when he George Foreman grilled his foot...

pictures to follow!!