Life in the Boot

As I write this, hubby is singing "Pick it up!" to the tune of Disney Frozen's "Let It Go" in a (feeble?) effort to get the kids to tidy their rooms before stories and bed.  He'll do bedtime for five kids all by himself, and then come down here and do the dishes, clean up the kitchen and tidy the rest of the house.  After that, I wouldn't be surprised if he goes down to the basement to work on the playroom he's building for the kids and the laundry room he's building for me.

Meanwhile, I'm chillin' on the couch, sipping soda and playing on the internet, and attempting to crochet this yarn into "10 minute booties" (for the last hour) for Jack.

This would all be fantastic, IF it weren't for this:

Yup.  Broke my ankle.  If you knew how skinny my feet normally are, this would REALLY freak you out.

Even though I slipped on ice over two weeks ago, my leg is still a bruised and mangled, achy mess.  It's not excruciating pain, but it's constant, and draining.

For the next few weeks, my life will be hobbling around in this thing:

With crutches.

(End of pity party.)