Sunday, August 29, 2004

So I may or may not have broken Jamie's hand. Ker-whack.

Nothing like injuring the wife to make yourself feel like a total heel.

We were at the gym and I tossed her a medicine ball. According to some reports, I tossed it too quickly or something. I'm not sure. I thought the speed was okay. Maybe she lacks hand-eye coordination. I cannot say. I do know it was I who threw the ball, and she has the injured hand.

I also know that we spent three or four hours at the ER today listening to the lady in the next room get manually cleared of her terrible constipation.

Look, if I had to listen to the whole ordeal, you have to think about it for a few seconds.

Jamie is doing okay. She needs to go for an additional X-Ray later this week, and then she'll know for certain. In the meantime, she's in a sort of cast/ splint and a sling.

And I feel like a jerk.

Luckily, there was my mom on the other end of the phone, lending her undying love and support.

"What did you do that to her for?"
"Mom, I just tossed her the ball."
"Well, you threw it too hard."
"I didn't throw it too hard, Ma. It was a freak accident."
"Why weren't you being more careful?"
"I was being careful. It was an accident."
"It doesn't sound to me like you were being careful."
"I was."
"Well, Jamie can't catch a ball like that. What kind of ball was this?"
"It was a medicine ball."
"I never heard of such a thing. Why were you throwing it at her?"
"Because my trainer told me to. We were like five feet apart."
"It sounds like you weren't being careful."


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