Sigh

Sigh.  Big sigh.  Last night I got the call.  The one from my husband’s friend after hockey.  I immediately knew when the phone rang at 10pm and it was a strange number that our luck had caught up with us.  My husband broke his collar bone playing hockey.  Why do men insist on continuing to play a sport that continues to cause them harm?  One by one, all of his friends have had some big injury while playing hockey.  His number was up.  So now he sheepishly sits at home, in a sling, in a ton of pain, needing a lot of care and attention.  Which would be fine if I didn’t also have two children and a dog all also requiring a lot of care and attention.  I understand that he is really hurt and miserable and that this affects him more than me, but now I have to do double the work to keep our household running.  And our household had a pretty freaking busy schedule to start with.  If this was the universe’s way of telling me to slow down, I am not amused.  So yeah, we can handle this and get through it, after all it is only a broken bone.  But. Sigh.

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