I hope everybody had a nice weekend! I'm feeling so much better today. The skin on my arm is healing (I think) and I only have minor twinges of pain. Thank you so much for your kind thoughts and well wishes on Friday's post. It really meant a lot! Sympathy ***cough*** is hard to come by here.
(Yes, the husband reads the blog.)
And I'm not a big fat baby. Throughout this whole ordeal I've only cried once (more of a whimper) and that was only because EVERYTHING. ADDS. UP.
1) Tetanus shots.
Thanks to my accident I had to get a tetanus shot on Friday. Here, you have to go see the doctor, he gives you a prescription, then you have to pick it up at the pharmacy and then go back to the doctor so he can administer it. Um, why can't the doctor's in France keep a little "frigo" in their office? Seriously. It would make life so much easier.
Anyway, after the doc gave me my shot, I was like "wow, that didn't hurt at all!"
A few hours later...
And it was like Mike Tyson punched me in the arm. My left arm. So I wasn't able to move either of my arms very much – only weird zombie-like movements.
Which made the following very interesting...
2) Dinner at the boss's house Saturday night!!!
When you're in pain it's hard to keep a smile on your face, let alone a pleasant mood. But I had to. So we loaded up the kids into the car and made our way to the director of my husband's department house, where I would meet him and his wife for the first time. Since it was a dinner party, I decided to skip my pain killers that evening.
Bring on the champagne.
I know, my bad. But my French does get better after a glass or two. I'm serious. And it's not because a slight slur helps my accent. No, not at all.
Thankfully, the evening passed without any mishaps or missteps. Well, besides the blood on my right arm leaking through it's bandage a little bit. Whatever! 'Tis only a flesh wound, right? (I covered myself up with my sweater and there was good food, good wine, a lot of laughter (which wasn't directed at me?), and a nice time was had by all.
3) Bonne fête, Papa!
So yesterday was Father's Day. La fille made a cake from scratch and the kids helped me clean the house because they didn't want their Dad doing anything. (We clean together, because this self proclaimed princess is all "what's a mop?") Of course, The Frog took the opportunity to work on the garage we're converting, so he didn't really get a break. Still, it was his choice; I would have loved for him to take the day off...
On that, why do stepmothers get the shaft??????
Ciao for now...