Myrtle Hurt.

Here's another funny little thing my mom says... Anytime growing up that I would complain of slight ailments or pain, and of course all in good fun, my mom would call me Myrtle Hurt. The name is actually a real one. Her favorite cousin growing up actually knew the woman. Knowing this, I just tried to google her... no response. Anyway, the point is that today I am definitely Myrtle Hurt. On Monday I went to a baseball fun day with the school where I used to teach. I took Little One with me (and Little Too for that matter) and had him sitting just under the awning of the dugout for the shade and I was sitting on the metal bleachers. One of my students hit a foul ball and it was headed straight for Little One. Scared the woo-hoo out of me. I tried to Superman off those bleachers to cover his sweet self (which if I had landed on him would have done a lot more damage, I'm sure). The ball hit the awning just above him - no kidding - inches from actually hitting him. (It should be said that "Bad News, Bad News" was NOT what went through my head here.) Well, the point here that fits my Myrtle Hurt title is that in diving over and off those metal bleachers, I scraped the skin off my shin. I'd take a picture, but this many days later, it doesn't look like it would hurt that bad, but it did... Then, yesterday I was at Mom and Dad's and while trying to multitask (open a cabinet door while walking) I stabbed the top of my foot with the corner of the cabinet door. (Here I said, "Jiminy Cricket".) It hurt so much!! Again, the pic wouldn't do it justice. And, lastly, today I met Dad to go for a walk with Little One - didn't know that was what I was doing or I would have made a better shoe choice... I had cheap plastic flip flops on and now I have blisters between my big and next toes.

Just call me Myrtle Hurt.