my toe, my toe

c15’s got had an ingrown toenail and it’s all michael’s fault…

it all started about 13 years ago.  when michael thought it would be a great idea for c15 to learn a lesson “the hard way”.    and for those of you who are too lazy to do the math, that would mean c15 was, at the time, only c2.  i was unloading groceries and c2 was helping.  he came upon a big ol’ can of tomatoes, maybe green beans, probably not beans (michael won’t eat them)… i don’t remember, but i’m certain it was a 20 pound can.  and he started walking around with it.  i told him to put it down and he wouldn’t.  i told him it would hurt if he dropped it on his toe.  he didn’t believe me.  or maybe he didn’t care.  or perhaps he was certain he wouldn’t drop it.  whichever it was he wasn’t gonna put it down.  so michael suggested we just leave it to gravity.  i was completely against this, but being the submissive wife that i am, i quietly agreed to disagree.  (i think michael will tell you i was fully on board.  that i thought this was the right course of action.  but we all know who to believe.)  and sure enough, gravity pulled that can right out of c2’s clutches and it landed smack dab on his left big toe.  and caused great wailing and big tears and maybe some words to be exchanged between micheal and me.  and michael was certain a lesson had been learned.

he was right.  but not the lesson he was thinking was being taught.  what c2 learned was that the call of “my toe, my toe” would get him out of just about any situation he might find himself in.  pick up your toys, “my toe, my toe”  hand momma a diaper for your baby sister, “my toe, my toe” eat your vegetables, “my toe, my toe” and it went on and on.  grandparents were especially big suckers. and he managed to nurse it for 6 months, maybe a bit longer.

and i learned a lesson, too.  because it was me, not “this will teach him” michael, who ended up taking c2 to the dr with a ginormous blood blister under his nail.  it was me who had to hold him down while the dr took a paperclip, unfolded it, searched for a lighter,  held the end of the paper clip in the flame for a good while and then punched that paper clip through c2’s nail to release the blood.  (and he did all of this without warning either c2 or me exactly what was going on)  and just what was the lesson i learned?

to blame it on his father.

so, back to the ingrown toenail.  it’s his left big toe.  yes, the same left big toe that was crushed by the can.  i’m certain they are related.*  and since i have now had to take c15 to the dr twice to have parts of the toenail removed (and by removed i mean ripped off) spent several hours in two seperate hospitals, kept c15 home from school for two days, and had a major knitting project mishap (i freaked a little when the doctor yanked with all his might to get the toenail off), i’m thinking i shall blame it all on his father.

*i have not sought medical confirmation regarding the relationship of the heavy can on the toe 13 years ago and the current ingrown toenail situation.  nor do i intend to.

6 thoughts on “my toe, my toe

    • it’s really just very gross looking. and the bandage has to be changed… and he says to me last night, “hey, mom. can you look at my other foot? there’s something on the bottom of it.” and there is. and i have no idea what it might be. and, my favorite was when he added, “it’s been there about a year.”

      ugh! or does that make me a bad mom for not having checked out my teen boys feet in a year?

      • Um…no. 🙂 If it turns out to be a plantar’s wart, try the duct tape cure. We fought a wart with Julianna for a year, two weeks of duct tape on it, and voila, gone!

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