Rest. Ice. Compression. Elevation.
Its been a couple weeks now since hubby badly sprained his ankle playing basketball.
I've assumed the daily role of pillow-stacker, ice pack-keeper, ACE wrap-wrapper, foot bath-maker, ICY-HOT masseuse, and sock put-er-on-er.
Besides all of that, and me losing my temper at the added wifey duties, I've compiled a list of what it means now that hubby is an invalid, a gimp, a bum if you will.
I can't keep the home proper no more!
I'm making hubby's foot bath from a salt that is also used for constipation
This very flower pot used to house our infamous plant (see The Plant that Wouldn't Die)
is the only thing large enough in our home to contain hubby's swollen ankle for his foot bath
There is now always a single, lonely shoe at the bottom of my staircase
(So that hubby can put on shoe while sitting on stairs)
We're the first ones to be seated at the movie theater
Free rice pudding from Cafe Agora
(Best Mediterranean food in ATL)
For your viewing pleasure, here's a glimpse of what we had:
I have to fly solo at fun places that involve walking,
(like the food truck event we had at our neighborhood)
which makes it not-so-fun anymore
A gazillion toss pillows are finally considered USEFUL
Hubby can now channel all the superhero prowess of Robocop
What?! I have to take out the trash?!