Our little house is overflowing with rule breaking. It's just what we do around these parts. We live on the edge and we don't follow the rules. We never have and probably never will. (Just ask Chris's mom. Don't ask my mom, she has too many stories).
Old school teenage Chris has been on a few too many, cross country midnight runs through the snow, without permission. In my day, I may or may not have skipped young women's to go skinny dipping in a friend's pool. Yikes.
Maybe, just maybe, we let Nory watercolor in the front room without putting newspaper down between her canvas and the floor. Occasionally she might get to watch cartoons while eating lunch. I'm pretty sure her and her mama like to garden without shoes on. Don't even get me started on my absolute disregard for the English language. Run-on sentence anyone?
Some rules seem pointless. You know, like commas. periods, and spelling correctely.
But some rules should just not be broken (don't worry, it's perfectly acceptable to start a sentence with a conjunction word like "but". Don't believe me? Look at this). We found out the hard way.
Sometimes in our family, we struggle with the proper usage of shopping carts.
Remember this. A little side note. I hate my toes and am super self conscious about that one crazy long toe. I might as well post a picture of these freakishly long toes for all of internetdom to see.
Anyway, back to the improper use of shopping carts. We broke the rules and let Elanora ride on the bottom of the shopping cart (who hasn't done that?). Dragging her cute little finger on the disgusting floor, she was having so much fun. Laughing and singing. Getting crazy amounts of germs on her hands. Well it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt or your mom runs over you hand with the shopping cart wheel.
I have never felt more sick in my whole life until I felt the shopping cart bump into her little fingers. I grabbed her and looked at the damage.
(FYI, this picture was taken the day after the incident because, of course I wasn't even thinking about taking a picture of my sweet hurt girlie. I was just thinking about my poor little lovie, how horrible I felt and how I could make the pain go away)
It was horrible, just horrible. Three fingers that I had scraped the crap out of. One minute we were singing, looking at flowers and lawn chairs and the next, my girl is crying and I'm trying not to cry because I need to be brave so she knows everything will be okay.
Resting her head on my shoulder and sobbing hysterically she was saying between deep sobs, "I. Need. A. Band-aid" over and over again.
Oh my poor girl. I'm not sure how I will handle a more grievous injury. On the outside I was calm and collected but on the inside I was sobbing as hard as her, wanting a magic band-aid to fix her up.
She is a lionheart and feeling much better. While her pinky heals, I think we will try a little harder to follow the rules. You get points for trying, right?
