"Damn! I broke my &^%@$*^^ femur."
That was my first thought this morning as I slammed my arm into a dresser corner. Pain vibrated through my arm & up my shoulder.
Gah! It hurt like HELL.
That might explain why I thought "femur" when in fact that is part of your leg, not your arm. The pain was so excruciating that it affected my brain & made me forget my anatomy lessons.
Google has since informed me that it was my "radius" that I wrecked havoc on this morning with my clumsiness. Thank goodness for Google.
I have turned into a clumsy oaf in my old age. Stray bruises are pretty common & I'm always banging my toes into something. Table legs, chests, cabinets, chairs - I don't discriminate when it comes to toe banging.
It's got to be pretty bad when S suggests that you stop wearing open toe shoes because he fears for your toes safety.
Poor, poor toes. I feel bad for them, I really do, but I'm not giving up my flip flops. They (& S) can forget it.
As Renoir said, “The pain passes, but the beauty remains.”
Of course Renoir probably never waxed his cha-cha, plucked his eyebrows, wore Lycra or hit his toe so hard that it messed up a fresh pedicure, so he might not be the best authority on the subject.
But don't expect me to start wearing steel toe boots anytime soon. Although you might catch me sporting these...