Sunday night the Kaos family went to bed pretty early. It was the night before K’s first day of school and it had been a long weekend of plumbing and stickers and entertaining friends so we all needed a bit of rest.
By 11:30 all lights were out and Mr. Kaos and I were drifting off to sleep. Tranquil happy sleep.
and it was good. the sleep was sound…
until 2am that is…
What happened at 2am? Well at 2am or shortly prior to it someone snuck into our room leaving the rest of the house undisturbed and smashed my ankle with a brick or a crowbar or a bag of nickles… something.
They must have wrapped it in a pillow first though because there was no noise, none at all, only SEARING pain.
It reminded me of the time when after meeting a young David Bowie doppelganger at the grocery store I came home and carrying several bottles of olive oil with me went into the basement. I missed the last step and landed sideways on my ankle on the hard basement floor… then to improve the situation a bottle of the olive oil I had been carrying slipped out of my hands flew up in the air and landed squarely on the ankle I had landed sideways on. It was impressive. I am so graceful.
Only I did not wake up in the basement with a bottle of olive oil on my ankle. I woke up in my bed exactly where I left myself. I considered poking or smacking Mr. Kaos to find out just what the meaning of all this awful pain was until I realized that he was sound asleep and supremely innocent of any ankle injuring…
What then? What caused this? How on earth did it happen?
Do people sneak into your room at night and bash your ankle???