Open Mouth, Insert Broken Ankle

| Related | February 17, 2015

(I have a broken ankle and am on crutches. I’m currently upstairs, and our fridge is of course on the first floor. Mom passes by.)

Me: “Say, Mom?”

Mom: “Yeah?”

Me: “Can you go downstairs and get me some cider and another ice pack, please?”

Mom: “What, is your foot broken?”

Me: “Why, yes! Yes, it is!” *I gesture at my foot*

Mom: “…I walked RIGHT into that one, didn’t I?”

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