Michael’s ankle is thankfully not broken. Like the rest of him, it is simply severely twisted. This should surprise no one that knows him. It is surprising though, that it WAS Michael that suffered such a bad sprain. He is actually pretty darn coordinated and graceful for such a large (albeit shrinking) man.
I on the other hand trip on flat and level ground. Sometimes I don’t even trip, I just fall. I will just be walking happily along, and then BAM, I am knees down on the sidewalk. That’s the worst part, I don’t fall gracefully, I fall hard. Michael claims I go down so fast that there isn’t any warning. I will be standing there one moment, and then sprawled in agony the next. So yes, it is ironic that I am still whole, and he is all busted up. Hmmm…maybe it is vindication for all the times he has laughed at me. Ha, take that! Now I shall run circles around you and your gimpiness.
The doctor told him to stay away from running for the next four weeks. Why don’t I see that happening? He is already planning to walk the hash on Sunday. Yep. Twisted ankle, twisted husband, twisted head.