Earlier this afternoon, I was at work. It was SUCH a nice day out, and I was trying desperately to convince my boss that she should just let us all go home. Instead of a snow day, we’d get a “nice” day. Now, my boss has a sense of humor, but she wasn’t gonna go for that.
A few minutes later, my husband called. We’ve got one of those kid gates between the kitchen and the living room. He’d tripped over it, and was quite certain he’d either sprained or broken something. His foot was swelling, and he could barely walk on it.
So, I had to come home. My boss, of course, thought I was completely full of poo when I told her, but I managed to convince her that it was indeed true, and I’ll have a doctor’s excuse on Monday.
So now I’m home. My husband drove himself to the doctor’s office (it was his left foot that he hurt, not his driving foot). I was sitting here thinking “damn, if his foot’s hurt really bad, he may not be able to work this weekend, and we sure could use the cash.” But hey–if you’re injured, you’re injured, and there really isn’t diddly I can do about it. Then I started straightening up the living room. While I was cleaning, I found not one, but TWO $50 savings bonds, that are old enough for me to cash in. And if my husband gets home before 6:00, I can go to the bank and cash them in. If not, I can do it Monday and we’ll be okay.
Ever have weird stuff like that happen to you?