The Candy-Handing-Outing Disaster

On Friday evening, I decided to spice up my life a little by breaking my foot. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. .......

On Friday evening, I decided to spice up my life a little by breaking my foot. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. Looking back now though, I can see that I should have just gone with a drastic haircut or something.

 

Unfortunately, I can’t go back in time so here I am, unable to walk and forced to stay on the couch … with the exception of when my kids need something … which is every three minutes. Basically, I’m never on the couch. The only real change in my life is that it now takes me an hour to get to the kitchen. Crutches are not nearly as fun as they seem.

I wish that I had a really cool story to tell about my broken foot, but I do not. In my perfect world, I could tell everyone that I ran out into traffic to save a mama cat and her 12 kittens who were all seconds away from being hit by a semi-truck. Sadly, the truth is that I tripped over my dog’s tennis ball while taking dirty laundry to the washing machine. If that isn’t the uncoolest broken foot story, I don’t know what is.

As it turns out, not being able to walk is incredibly inconvenient, especially during special occasions. This may come as a surprise to some of you, but Saturday was Halloween. Originally we were just going to turn off the lights because I was supposed to work. Instead, I was stuck at home and tasked with the candy-handing-outing. Getting creative, I had our couch pushed all the way up to the front door so that I could reach over and open it, as opposed to trying to crutch myself over every time.

Sometime during the evening, my 2-year old decided that she wanted to be a candy-hander-outer with me. I opened the door and she put candy in the bags. She was super cute (besides telling a few kids to go away) and I thought the evening was going to be a huge success. I was wrong.

With me leaning over from the couch, I guess I appeared to be about toddler height. I didn’t realize this until I heard a mom say to her kids, “How old were those kids?! Was there an adult there?” Normally I would laugh something like this off, but as I recently found out, a CPS investigation is no laughing matter.

Considering that kids are not the most reliable sources of information, there is a good chance that the record wasn’t set straight. So now I feel the need to publicly declare that I (technically an adult) was at my house on Halloween. I did not leave two toddlers home alone to hand out candy on Halloween … mostly because I wouldn’t have gotten any of the leftover candy.

For questions, comments or to adopt the dog who tried to kill me (I’m mostly kidding), please e-mail me at christyrasmussen@yahoo.com.