She broke our Christmas tree. Broke it. We found it leaning against the wall, broken bulbs at its base.
Elise and I have given up on a tree this year. A replacement would surely suffer the same fate.
This is all a fake tree I'm talking about, of course. She broke the legs off the base, rendering the whole thing useless.
I ran face first into a doorframe at work today and put a bumpy slice in my forehead. Two weeks ago, Elise was hit above the eye by the icemaker's heavy, steel door. Work is getting increasingly more dangerous, I've deduced. The gravitational danger zone of the restaurant caused a young kid to fall off of his bicycle in the street at 11pm. I was right there and wanted to run toward him screaming, "Oh my God, do you need a bandaid?" But instead ran toward him with a broom and dustpan confused as to whether I should call 911 or not. He wasn't that young actually. I think someone said he was 14. I was the first one there, but I didn't do anything but get other people that could do things. Like a nurse. He was crying a lot and I think he broke his arm. In the end, an ambulance came so I'm thinking now that I should have been the one to call for it because I was the first person there and all.
Here's the sick part...
I was sweeping the ground outside and there was an empty coffee creamer on the ground. It was stubborn and the broom didn't want to sweep it into the dustpan.
I heard the thud of the kid falling off the bike... and it was loud. Then I turned and the kid was all twisted up in his bike and I thought, "Holy shit!" Then I turned back and gave it one last stab at sweeping that creamer on up before running to the kid's aid.
I got it that time!
It's just one of those things that's so annoying that nothing will stop you from getting it done. Nothing.
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