Who loves the color orange….
Her daddy, a hot resident with horn-rimmed glasses (yep this combination really is possible), happened to be on call tonight and happened to be home for dinner. He diagnosed her as having a nursemaid’s elbow (dislocated elbow is the term for us regular folk), but didn’t want to pop it back without an x-ray. And tough person that he is, just plain didn’t want to do that to his own daughter, that’s my suspicion.
His diagnosis was correct and she was a trooper. I almost cried more than she did when the orthopedist popped it back. But we’re home, the girls are in bed, and I’m um, blogging and leaving the dinner dishes where they’re at until morning. And basking in feeling deliciously rebellious for doing so. And still feeling a little traumatized.
I, however, am taking a little longer to recover.