I think I broke my husband’s foot.

The older two kids are gone to their big sisters house tonight for a sleepover so the husband and I had to take over one of their chores - bringing in firewood. One person is outside getting the wood off the stack and putting it in the window while the other person is in the basement by the wood stove taking the wood out of the window and stacking it on the floor.

I had the outside job, hubs had the inside job. I had put some wood in the window, turned to grab some more, turned back and caught the edge of a piece and knocked it off the window. And onto my husband’s foot. Did I mention that he wasn’t wearing any shoes? He fell to the floor grabbing his foot and hollering

“OMG, you broke my fucking foot! Ahhh!!”

“Actually honey, technically, the wood broke your foot not me.”

He somehow failed to see the importance of this distinction. And is currently refusing to go to the emergency room. To torture me I think. Or just to be a stupid man. Or both. Yeah, it’s probably both.