Steve broke his toe! And it's my fault...

Yeah, right. He breaks his toe and I get blamed?! Really?

Here's how it happened:

I awoke around 1:30 AM to this highly annoying, persistent beeping sound. I couldn't figure out from where it was coming, so I did what any woman would do -- I woke up my husband. "Honey," I said, "Do you hear that?" He replied, "Uh-huh" to which I said urgently, "Go check it out!"

Off he went to check it out. I could hear him manipulating the buttons on the alarm system. The alarm wasn't going off, that sound wakes the dead and all of Henrietta, but it was beeping for some reason. He turned it off and reset it and came back upstairs.

Right before he dove back into bed, I whispered, "What if the call center calls? Our landline isn't working at the moment, my cell phone is off, and yours is downstairs. Go check it. I don't want the po-po banging on our door and waking up Ryan!" (Sorry, Nance -- no disrespect to Hank!) Off he went again. But this time, he missed the bottom stop on the landing where our cedar chest sits. This is where it gets good.

He starts moaning and groaning and gnashing his teeth. I leap out of bed like Wonder Woman and race to his side only to find him curled up in a ball on the landing. I think his leg is broken. But no, when he finally answers my pestering questions of are you okay?! Is something broken?? he says, yeah, my toe. I gotta tell ya -- I almost laughed out loud. His histrionics were something else. But let's get to why this business is my fault.

So I get him ice, I tape it to this foot, I get him ibuprofen and water, I get extra pillows to elevate and quickly realize that's all we can do for now unless he wants to hit the emergency room. He does not. Thank God! But he's being a bit snarky to me all this time while I'm administering to him like the world's best nurse and I finally say, "Why are you mad at me?" He snarks loudly, "Because I shouldn't have had to go back down there!"

And there it is! Because he's a clumsy oaf and rushes everywhere like an elephant and I told him to go check his phone, it's my fault! Stay away from me, people, I apparently have the power to break your toes!!

He's being a little more reasonable this morning and he's off to the orthopedic specialist, bypassing the primary care guy, and secretly, I think he's being a big, fat baby. I broke a finger a few weeks ago at kickball and kept playing. It took months for that stupid finger to heal and I did not cry like this guy's doing. But I will keep my mouth shut. As much as I can...