I think I broke a toe today.
And unfortunately, it's one of my toes.
Open on a quaintly messy living room. An adorable young toddler plays on the couch while a loving mother tends to her. When the beautiful and graceful young mother (hey, it's my re-enactment...) approaches her young daughter, a threatening, nay, homicidal ottoman (which had laid dormant until this very instant) jumped out at the young mother, throttling her foot.
The gorgeous, yet humble, mother crumples gracefully to the ground exclaiming, "WHAT THE FUCK!?!"
Sorry for the close-up foot photo. I know I need a pedicure like nothing else - Christ, my nails look like I clipped them with a lawn mower. And the only reason why they are recently painted is because I had a Mommy Group play date yesterday and knew I'd be forced against my will to remove my shoes before entering.
Anywho, now I'm forced to hobble around all day like frickin' Verbal Kint. And, of course, I have a client meeting this evening. Think Starbucks will let me use the handicap parking spot?
*All ottomans are presumed innocent until found guilty by a jury of their peers (i.e. ottomans, stools, love seats, etc.)
Song title: Hurt so Bad by Alicia Keys