I'd say my kids have been relatively perfect today considering they were stuck chaperoning me at a three hour ordeal at an orthopedic clinic.
The hour and a half in the waiting room wasn't bad. We giggled and whispered and envied cute outfit.
A cute baby fell asleep gnawing on her mom's bracelet.
A straw haired lady wheeled across the room complimented someone's "handsome son" only to find out it was a daughter.
One lucky red-casted guy hobbled in on crutches and was called back for his appointment before his butt actually landed on the seat he'd chosen.
Once they called us back I sat on an exam table in the middle of 10 other tables like an old maternity ward where everybody could see and hear everything that was going on.
I asked the nurse if invisible curtains actually separated us and she said yes and closed the invisible curtains behind her. I pretended not to see someone across from me giggle.
When the doctor that I'd been referred to introduced himself and asked me how I hurt my ankle I told him "skydiving" and he believed me because I guess doctors get stories like that all the time.
Before he could write anything down I stopped him and said "no, I was walking the dog."
That's all I told him but I'll tell you more because "Walking the dog" sounds like such a euphemism for 100 things, most of which are things that warrant euphemisms.
A few days ago, after submitting semester grades I took the puppy for a celebratory late night walk under the stars and among fireflies and then whoosh slip twist crash I was sitting with one foot twisted under me.
In three seconds I knew it was broken and I limped home praying to forget every step.
I wrote a poem, took Tylenol pm and went to sleep. The rest is history.
Back to today.
Cast for 4 weeks, then back for X-rays and hopefully a walking cast after that.
Zoe asks them to make my cast pink and green. 
Zack holds my hand as the cast guy slowly sets my ankle in position it really doesn't want to be in (and 8 hours later my ankle is still crying).
Soon enough we are home but without the cool knee-scooter crutch-substitute that I hoped I would get. Apparently they're quite scarce around these places.
Inspired by the doctors and cast techs rolling around on those little exam room stools, I turned the rolling computer desk chair into a faux-scooter (#whee).
After days if being stranded in a chair unable to even get myself water I was finally free (and omg excited) to clean the kitchen, take out the trash, put away laundry and sweep.
I made dinner (eggs, pancakes, bacon), cleaned again, then my foot was throbbing so painfully I decided to take a break watch a little Masterchef.
That's when one of my practically perfect and increasingly independent kids came to me and asked to get on the computer.
I said yes but the kid still stood there looking sad.
What?
I need the chair or the computer won't work.
Too tired to even try to fight that crazy illusion I surrendered the chair of freedom and slid onto the sofa, curled up with my puppy and watched Gordon Ramsey fuss at people.
