It’s True Story Tuesday!
Time to dust off those family legends that are just dying to be memorialized in a blog post and shared with the world! You’ve probably already got a post that qualifies: something amazing, hilarious, outrageous, miraculous and (mostly) true that has happened to you!
So grab the code underneath the TST button the right sidebar, paste it in your post somewhere, then come back and link up for some comment love!
This week brought to you by the girl who lovingly sacrifices her physical wellbeing for your entertainment…
BECAUSE THIS STUFF ONLY HAPPENS TO ME
That man of mine.
Let’s just say that once I beautified Ella, my husband was very, very unwilling to be caught using my camera.
(Yes, I named my camera. She’s special to me. And I don’t have a little girl to dote on. Come on Mr. Daddy!!!)
See, she wears this pretty little strap from Priddy Creations:
And the man, shockingly, refuses to carry her anywhere.
Which means that when he got his new phone and realized that the camera was much better than his previous phone… the man has become a picture-taking machine.
This leads me to a few evenings ago.
Scene: Rachel is folding freshly laundered towels in the bathroom.
You know… after cooking a gourmet dinner, entertaining 16 dinner guests with her witty banter, sewing new curtains for the living room, polishing the silver, planting a vegetable garden, making organic soap, completing a 2-hour workout, reading 27 chapters of the Bible, and teaching Itty Bit the quadratic equation.
What? Okay, it was only 2 chapters of the Bible.
Anyway… so I’m folding towels.
And that man and his blasted phone/camera/weapon popped around the doorframe and startled me.
Instinctively, I shielded my
perfectly made-up tired face from the flash and shrieked.
The man grinned and continued to aim that obnoxious little shutter at me while I hurriedly unfolded 15 towels in an attempt to grab one to block the horrendous photo he was sure to capture otherwise.
He would not stop cracking up. Yes my dears, this is the exact expression:
After the shrieking to no avail thing didn’t work within 30 seconds, I’d finally had enough.
I was gonna kick that man’s butt.
And friends, let me tell ya. When you’re holding a full length towel in front of you, make sure that it’s not obstructing your view of any potential obstacles.
Cuz usually when I end up with feet like on the left, it’s because of what’s on the right:
And instead, I took a mighty swing and kicked THROUGH the towel toward my laughing husband’s rear-end.
And I kicked straight into the open cabinet door.
Oh, but it wouldn’t be a TRUE True Story Tuesday without that little something extra, right?
So I kick the cabinet door hard enough that my brain is convinced that I have broken two toes…
and the cabinet door bites back.
That thing swung back hard and roundly clocked my OPPOSITE knee – sending me to the floor howling in pain.
Would you believe that I kicked high enough that my foot was midair when the cabinet swung to retaliate? So the blasted thing ended up between my legs by the time I realized my ballet training was far more harmful than helpful?
See, I have:
two busted toes on my left foot
an instantaneous gnarly bruise on my right knee.
a cabinet door that no longer closes.
and a husband that unfortunately witnessed the entire thing.
(and whose first words were TRUE STORY TUESDAAAAAY! Is he trained or what?!?)
Who does this?!? Tell me I’m not alone! Got any crazy true stories that need some comment love? Link ‘em up below and we’ll be around to enjoy them with you!