Melinda Morley

So, I should know this. I do know this. But somehow this doesn’t stop me from making the same mistake.

It doesn’t pay to be in a hurry.

When I’m hurrying to clean the kitchen, I usually spill something and it takes me ten times longer to clean.

When I hurry on the freeway, I get a ticket and then I’m just that much later. (Disclaimer, I have yet to get a ticket, but in theory this works.)

So, when I was watering the garden because my little guy missed watering the corn and I didn’t want it to wither while we were away, I should have known better than to hurry. But everyone was ready. And the kids were in the car. And Tina and I had everything ready to go and we meant to have left an hour before, so when I saw the dry ground around the corn I had to water it.

Is there ever really a GOOD way to get stitches? Aren’t they all pretty much silly or thoughtless mistakes that we make? Or downright embarrassing?

When I was in Kindergarten, I spun around in a circle and yelled “Wonder Woman!” as I made myself ridiculously dizzy and fell over onto a broken vase by the side of the rode.

Seven stitches in my thumb.  I still have the scars.

So, Thursday I was wildly watering the garden. I was dressed in my favorite jeans. And feeling very frustrated that watering takes so long. So, I turned the water up full blast and then I started to get muddy and wet. And then I noticed that the water was pooling around me and I didn’t want to step in the mud that is like quicksand.

So, I tried to step over the plow thing that attaches to the tractor and stay on dry ground. And then the soft dirt gave way and I fell backwards or forwards–it’s all a blur.

Over the tractor thing.

And caught my leg on a rusty piece of steel.

It was blood and gut folks. (I would post a pic, but it is not a pretty sight. Gruesome.)

And seven stitches, which may not be my lucky number after all.

And a tetanus shot.

But, it had a whooping cough booster combined, so I guess I should feel better about it.

And the nurse was a really nice old lady that called me cute. And the doctor was cute and told me that even a plastic surgeon couldn’t have done a better job on my jagged puncture wound. And that should make me feel better, too.

And Tina was a saint for driving me and all the kids around to the clinic and waiting patiently while I was getting stitched up.

Tina knows better than to hurry. She is patient and cheerful. I needed her on Thursday.

So, the bad thing is that, besides a jagged scar, I have a bruise larger than a softball on the back of my leg.

And the worst thing is that I can’t run for a couple of weeks.

And the good thing (besides getting to lie around for a couple of days) is that I didn’t tear my favorite jeans.

Because, good jeans are hard to find.