I Am My Mother's Daughter

When I was 13 years old, my dear dear mother decided to take advantage of a free afternoon (as free as it can get with 6 teenagers running around) and clean out our freezer. It was the second freezer, the one in the garage; the one with the endless supply of frozen goods which is completely necessary to feed 4 growing boys and a husband. Anyways. So while my mother was cleaning out the freezer, she dropped a 20 lb. frozen turkey on her foot. I remember the wailing and the contorted face as she writhed in pain; I felt bad. She ended up shattering her big toe, was in a boot for what seemed like forever, and to this day her toe still bothers her when a weather front moves in. I remember thinking, oh, poor clumsy mom. Always hurting herself with something bizarre like dropping a frozen turkey on it. Don't get me wrong; I've had my share of injuries. I broke my pinkie in a soccer game, sliced my arm nearly off, cut open fingers, broken elbows, wrists, had my share of concussions, thanks to soccer and 4 brothers, and other various minor ailments/misfortunes. But nothing as bizarre as dropping frozen poultry on myself. Well, there is a phrase that has come to my mind lately: We all turn into our mothers. In my case, this would not be so horrible as many people make it out to be. But there is one specific trait that I seem to have inherited as of late. Some of you have seen the photos that Jared took of me the other day. They were taken on a railroad, inside/around an old abandoned rail car. Well, the little photo shoot was going well on Saturday. I was standing on the car's hitch, and Jared had just finished shooting a certain pose. I turned to grab my purse, when out of nowhere, SMACK. I had managed to turn smack dead into a huge piece of the steel train, which caught me right on the forehead. I tried to play it off like it was no big deal, but after a minute I started to cry. I decided I'd bring out the boy in me that has learned to suck it up, but I think Jared noticed a couple tears and my quivery lip. We hurried and finished before my face swelled up too huge. And so the headache began. That was Saturday. I've had a headache for 3 days straight. But don't worry, that's not the end. Monday afternoon, I returned home from a tedious 12 hour shift, tired and worn out,my head still bruised and aching. I decided I would go to the gym to release some stress. I thought I'd make a harmless pre-gym visit to the restroom in my apt, but no no. As I shut the door to the bathroom, (we have to shut it pretty hard to close it all the way,) the vent decided to jump out of the wall. Yep. I shut the door and the vent fell out of the wall and landed SMACK on my head, just so happening to hit the exact spot that the stupid train got me. So as I sat on my toilet with my head in my hands, sobbing the sobs of a girl that has had long day, a girl that has reached the point of breaking, I didn't feel much like laughing. But, I never fail to find the humor in any situation. As I walked to the gym a few minutes later, still drying my tears, I couldn't help but laugh aloud at myself. What a funny story. I could just hear the conversations I'd have:

"Wow Katie, what happened to your head?
"Oh, nothing, I just walked into a train and then a vent fell on my head. You know. The usual."

Dropping a turkey on your toe sounds pretty good and normal, now, doesn't it?