A Toe Triad...
I experienced an odd triad at work today. I'll call it the Toe Triad. I was carrying Jackson's toys down from upstairs when I dropped a Winnie the Pooh honey pot on my sandal-clad left foot. It was quite painful, though I didn't show it. I just hopped around a bit and chanted in my head, "It's not as bad as childbirth, it's not as bad as childbirth.." (A little mantra that reminds me how tough I am and that no amount of pain can touch me.) About fifteen minutes later, I stubbed my right big toe on the desk as I sat down to work. It was one of those serious under-the-nail type of stubs that would bring tears to your eyes - your eyes, but not mine. I was silent once more because I didn't want to curse in front of baby Jackson. But, I swear it wasn't ten minutes later that the afternoon volunteer stepped right on my left big toe as I stood next to him to answer a question. Not wanting to make him feel bad I just smiled and said "Oh, no you didn't hurt me at all..." When what I really though was "WTF? Is April 3 Anti-Marsha's Feet Day?"

I felt pretty secure I'd have no further toe-harming incidents, seeing as the triad was complete. But I was extra careful the rest of the afternoon, just in case. When when I got home, the Schwann's guy was in the neighboorhood giving out free ice cream samples. Guess what he gave me, as I stood carefully out of toe-crunching range? Three - count them, three- ice cream bars. That is my idea of a triad...