With our crazy schedule there is never a dull moment anymore, between, softball, meetings, work, church, and, well…Henry, we are totally booked! So we have altered our life to shift mode.
In order to get anything done we have to work in shifts...one person takes the taxi driver for the girls shift for a little bit, the other, what ever task is at hand.
This is what leads me to my lovely story. We had some trees down from the storms and from adding the garage, so we needed to have a bonfire to get rid of the brush pile that was bigger than the house itself…as attractive as it was in our front yard, we felt the need to rid ourselves of out local tick and black fly habitat.
I was left to tend the fire.
Because my husband is coaching the softball team for one of my girls he had to go get his picture taken with them. He left saying: "Don't worry about working on this, just keep it going."
He clearly doesn't know my family genes- That sounded like a challenge.
My Marshall genes create this sort of superhero complex where we feel the need to be big tough people…me in particular, who deems it necessary to prove my SheRa** qualities to a fault.
All was well until in an amazing act of grace and dexterity, I pulled up on a large limb, only to have it break quickly, knocking me in the head and then to the ground twisting my knee, jamming my finger, and splitting my ear open.
I KNOW, amazing isn’t it?
I quickly surveyed to make sure that no one could have possibly seen my incredible manual labor prowess. Seeing that no one could have seen, I then noticed the blood dripping down the side of my face.
See, my husband, is aware of my SheRa tendencies, but he forgot to account for my Marshall Grace Gene. The one that sent my dad to the ER on more than one occasion. (Most notably for his thumb that he nearly severed off, when he heard a “rattling” under the van and felt the need to check it out on the side of the road...on our way out of town to camp across the country for 3 weeks.) It is still one of the great mysteries of the universe that the man still has all of his digits in tact.
Granted there are no big trips planned here, just a brush pile, but I sat there and giggled as I threw more fodder on the fire while limping and holding and ice pack on my ear…
Here’s to you Marshall Genes…may my husband know better than to ever leave me alone with a weed whacker.
**For those of you who may be unfamiliar with SheRa-Princess of Power, here she is, and has been a family icon since I was a kid…as in: “You don’t have to be SheRa,” “You realize that you aren’t SheRa right?” “Stop pretending to be SheRa,” “You did WHAT?...Do you think you are SheRa or something?” Ahhh she has played a large role in my life…and medical history.