I guess I've already lounged through whatever guilt equity my new injury may have originally engendered. Gone already (sheesh, has it even been 48 hours yet) are the offers to carry things for me or perform "boy chores" on my behalf. She's already making plans for me to carry the loveseat out to the curb tonight for the garbage men to collect tomorrow.
"But what about my foot?" I sputtered indignantly.
"I'll help carry it," she replied. Fantastic.
This morning I underestimated both the volume of rain that was falling as well as the length of time it would take me to limp from my car to the front of the office. This underestimation resulted in my election to forgo the umbrella and feel the rain on my face. But when I got inside, I felt it everywhere else as well. With any luck it'll be dry by the time I leave the office.