Fractured Happiness

My sister, Emily, called me the other day. "I hear you got a stress fracture in your leg. I'm impressed. That's so hardcore."

I responded, "Would you be less impressed if you knew I injured my leg playing Just Dance 3?"

The Reader's Digest version of "Kodie Fractures Her Leg" goes something like this. A few weeks ago after an intense Just Dance competition with my sister, Riki, my leg began killing me. I thought I had shin splints, so I toned down the exercise for awhile. My leg seemed to be feeling better, all was well in Zion, and the sun was shining on Monday morning when I decided to go for a run. My leg instantly began to hurt, but I pushed through my pain, finished my run, and returned home. At which point, I laid on the floor of my closet whining loudly about how much my leg hurt. Fast-forward one doctor's visit later, and I have an official stress fracture diagnosis.

Being as it is an ever so tiny stress fracture, I don't have a cast or crutches. I have to choke down a lot of chalky tasting calcium chews and wear an aircast when I exercise, but that's about it. It has actually come in handy a few times already.

"Well, I'd like to carry McKay up to her bed, but you know my leg is broken...."

However, in Parker's mind, only good has come from it. First, I had to get myself a better pair of running shoes. (I guess wearing shoes you've had since 2004 to run in is a bad idea.)

"Mom, your new shoes are awesome! They're just like the one's the BYU women's volleyball team wears!"

Seriously? Does anyone besides my son know that? That's what I call a sickness.

"Kids," I announced at dinner, "since dad will be out of town on Valentine's Day, I'm taking you all out to McDonald's for half-price Happy Meals."

"Yay!" Parker cheered. "I love it when mom breaks her leg!"

I fail to see how those two events relate, but I'm glad I could bring so much happiness into Parker's life.

We are the Champions

"So, um, sorry, mom, but the floor in my bedroom is pretty much soaking," Parker tells me tonight.

"Because?"

"We won the championship!"

"What championship?"

"The basketball championship."

"Are we talking about the Nerf basketball hoop over your closet door and the neighborhood kids filling up your bedroom?"

"Yes."

"Congratulations. Why is your floor wet?"

"I got so excited, I had to pour my water bottle over Kaleb's head--you know, Bronco Mendenhall style."

Obviously.

Cabin Fever

Today Deacon looked out the window and asked, "Hey, who cancelled summer?" Apparently he is done with winter.

The doorbell rang, and Parker's friend, Kaleb, bounded in with the announcement, "It's hot out there! It's like 80 degrees!"

"It's 46 degrees outside," I told him.

"Nah, it's got to be close to 80. Come on Parker, you don't need a jacket."

"It's February," I explained. "Jackets aren't optional."

"MOM, it's HOT outside. I'll sweat in a jacket."

The doorbell rang again, and McKay's friend, Maddi, comes bursting in without shoes on.

I guess I'm the only one delusional enough to believe February still qualifies as winter.