My husband and I have had an ongoing battle since we've lived in our house at the beach. He wants our bbq to live down by the beach because if he is going to be grilling he needs to be where the action is. I prefer it by the back door where I can easily access it while preparing food in our kitchen and have more room for guests down by the beach.
On Thursday my husband was scheduled to fly in at 5:15pm and Britta's birthday party was scheduled for 5:30. I had my mom show up at 4:30 to help me move the bbq to its rightful place on the back porch. Plus he has a bad back and I didn't want him moving it -- if I could convince him to move it, that is.
Turns out that sucker is heavy -- and sharp! I tried to heave-ho it above my shoulders to get it up the stairs when ... (I'll censor myself for those not liking blood and gore) ... and then I told my mom I needed stitches. She drove me to the doctor's office for a tetanus shot and 4 stitches right below my thumb.
At 5pm Andy called me to tell me his plane had landed early. "I'm at the doctor's getting stitches. Call your sister for a ride." By the time he got to our house there were about ten people milling around ready for the party. They tried to figure out where the food for the party was (in the back of my car still, of course). Fortunately for me I have some resourceful female relatives. They found the flank steak, tomatoes, corn and watermelon and had everything under control.
My hand was hurting by the time I got back home. The doctor had prescribed vicodin which I immediately popped. I got to hosting the party as well as I could with my right hand out of service. Once the vicodin kicked in I even took a few photos, although not nearly as many as I normally would have. Here's my adorable girl so happy with her new Pillow Pet from Aunt Katie:
My mom and Katie helped with the party clean up. I popped another vicodin and went to bed. I'm not sure if it was the pain or the vicodin but I hardly slept at all and had strange nightmares all night.
The next day the kids had swimming so I popped another vicodin and headed to the pool.
Yes, another vicodin! Within two hours my day was ruined. I was useless. My mom took Britta up to her house and Karsten went to play with a friend. I slept a few hours then rallied to head to the pool for a picnic with friends I hadn't caught up with in a long time.
But I couldn't do it. I crashed out on the couch and slept even longer.
The next day I took some migraine pain medicine and went off to my photo session. I was fairly wiped out. I thought maybe I'd get some pampering. Some sympathy.
Nothing. I'd say, "my hand hurts." Husband, "I'm really wiped out from so much traveling. I am going to take a nap." Later I might have said something like, "our house is a mess, I can tell I'm out of commission by how many dishes there are to do." Husband, "we had a party, of course it is a mess. I'm heading upstairs for a nap!" My mom helped me with the dishes thankfully. A few hours later I said, "I'm surprised how much my hand hurts." Husband, "I think I may have an ear infection."
Finally he admitted it. This family already has a gimp (him!) and there is no room for a second one. I'm feeling a lot better now and staying away from the vicodin, so I'll let him be the gimp, as long as the bbq can remain on the back porch!
