Ok...so probably not everyone had exactly the same experience with this year's Independence Day celebration. And that's alright - because we don't want too many people realizing that they actually have decent healthcare and that you can go in, get fixed up, and get on your way in under a day, right? I mean, that would put a dent in this whole express lane to a one-payer system, right?
So..the story. We were doing a little homerun derby at some baseball fields and my husband was hitting (would you expect anything less?) and I was in the outfield doing my thing - which consisted mainly of looking good with the leather glove and heckling. The baseballs were flying pretty fast, mostly because my father-in-law and husband respectively don't like to be outhit by each other and the wooden bat and sunny day made for good baseball karma. Then of course, there was a ball that came my way, or really as I remember it, locked onto my face like a heat-seaking missile in a James Bond movie. I remember the ball coming towards me -- and then the nice green grass, while I watched some of my DNA blanket the field. My sunglasses were shattered and I had a nice gash right at the bridge of my nose where the frame had cut my face.
This picture is quite frightening - I'm not sure why I thought smiling would make me look any less disturbing, because quite honestly I think I made it worse but...
Four stitches later, and a fractured nose later, I was feeling alright- I had a good story and I felt like the universe had finally equalized my previous few weeks of baseball and softball activity without an injury. I mean, there are no free lunches, right? But of couse, the swelling made my cheeks reach astronomical-chipmunk proportions.
And of course, it wasn't till a few days later that I started to look like a domestic violence victim and started to worry that going out in public standing next to my husband and insisting that I got hit by a baseball didn't look good. And that's what my eyes looked like WITH makeup, mind you.
Stitchtes are out now, and the matching racoon eyes are gone and hopefully, I can avoid the akward hey-I-know-you-are-staring-at-my-forehead because you notice something happened but then are too scared to ask because I have a large menacing man leering over us. Moral of the story - stand back farther in the field and learn to get the he** out of the way when a six and a half foot man starts hitting homeruns.
We had a great week -- short, but sweet and here are a few highlights:
Me and baby Mylee at Tubb's Hill
Michael and Suzie at Tubbs
My Mom with baby Ryder at the parade
Me and Madison --or should I say the reigning Junior Miss - at the parade
Michael and I at the parade - in red, white and blue (even the bruises -- now thats patriotism my friends...)
Mike and I out on the boat
Leonards and us celebrating our second anniversary at Ciao Mambo's!