So, here I am at a hotel in Fairmont, Minnesota. I decided to come up and visit my dad yesterday as I originally planned. It was a good weekend to come — I’m between writing projects, the weather looks good (well, except for the fact it’s DARN COLD up here!!!! -10 actual temp., -30 wind chill…I hope my van starts! I live in Iowa now. I’m not used to this kind of cold anymore! Okay, truth be told, it looks like it’s below zero in Iowa, too.)
Preteen was a little surprised I decided to come visit Grandpa this weekend (given my lip). I told him Grandpa wouldn’t care how I looked. Preteen said, “well, yeah, but what about the other people there? What about the people serving the food?”
I can always count on my Preteen to tell me exactly what he thinks. My husband says, “it really doesn’t look that bad,” and Preteen sort of clears his throat. Teen asks me how it feels…he doesn’t give me any lip (ha ha!) about doing stuff around the house, and he just doesn’t say anything about how it looks. Preteen, on the other hand, will walk into a room, look at me and say, “Wow! You look…” and then he’ll trail off because he just can’t find the words to describe how I look.
But actually, it IS looking a lot better. (I want to say that to all the people I ran into yesterday who looked at me, then looked at me again, then looked away. I’m glad nobody’s asking me what happened…but I worry that people think my husband beat me up or something.) Preteen should notice a big difference when he sees me again. A lot of the swelling has gone down. It’s bruised…and it still looks like I’ve got an ant crawling across my upper lip…but it’s looking (and feeling) A LOT better.
So I spent yesterday afternoon sitting at the computer with my dad googling a bunch of people he knew when he was a boy (his idea). I’ve seen him looking better and I’ve seen him looking worse…so overall, that’s pretty good.
Oh girl! I missed your original “LIP” post, so went back and read it. OUCH! Once, I was pulling the door down from the attic–you know the kind where you then unfold the stairs? I didn’t realize it, but my stepfather had put a short piece of two-by-four up there, holding the pull-down door slightly ajar, for some extra ventilation in the attic, I’m guessing. That hunky, clunky, chunky, HEAVY piece of wood hit me on top of my head! It knocked me DOWN! And no one was home. One of those “it’s a miracle she didn’t just lie there and expire” situations. I had an egg atop my head the size of a football (it seemed) for weeks. Here’s to a speedy recovery for your lip!
XO Candie
I know those pull down attic doors! My grandma used to have one. OUCH!!!
I’m doing MUCH better, thanks…I even got the stitches out yesterday. I’ve still got a little bump and a little bit of bruising, but that’s about it.