This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy stayed at home,
This little piggy had roast beef,
This little piggy had none.
And this little piggy went…
“Wee wee wee” all the way home…
Apparently, the little piggy who had none likes to take its revenge when I travel.
A year ago, it was when I was on holiday in Queensland, Australia. We were snorkeling at the Great Barrier Reef when the boat shifted and a guy — who it turns out was an ambassador or something — fell on me, sending me flying across the boat. Fortunately the boat had floor to ceiling poles for people to hold on to during rough seas and I grabbed the pole to keep from falling on my face. I did a twirl around that pole which would have made any pole dancer proud, but unfortunately I also kicked the pole and broke my second-from-the-pinky toe. Spent the rest of the trip hobbling around taped up. Course the most painful part was when the guy who fell on me came up to me later and said “oh, did you do that when you tripped on me?” Numerous answers came to mind but I, quite uncharacteristically, held my tongue. Him being an ambassador or something, and all.
That night I stayed in our rented apartment all bandaged and ice-packed, while my friend JM went out and got utterly smashed with the ambassador’s 17-year-old son, who I’m pleased to say handily drank JM under the table.
So, as I enter into high gear for final countdown of my trip — with much packing and moving still to be done, with several more “test hikes” at full backpack weight to be had, with new shoes to be broken in, what does this very same toe decide to do? Kick a piece of furniture, that’s what!
That same little piggy as got broke in Australia is now again a lovely shade of purple, and again bandaged up and ice-packed.
Well, it makes life interesting, I suppose.
Anyone with home-made “how to super-quickly heal a broken toe” remedies, please advise…