This week’s Sunday Smackdown is brought to you by Husband! The reason Sunday Smackdown started (in my head) in the first place was because husband plays Old Man Soccer every Sunday morning. (You can see old Sunday Smackdowns here, here, here, and here.) Soccer is very important to him (and has been forever) so we encourage him to go, and when he comes home he is
freaking exhausted all cute and giddy and in a happy mood because he got to play. He is gone for 3 or 4 hours every Sunday morning and at home we tend to go a little Lord of the Flies without him here. Hence the abundance of Smackdowns.
Husband comes home after his game for lunch and regales us with tales of heroic goals, impossible saves, and the occasional injury. (Oh! That reminds me! I will have to tell you about the time he got concussed at soccer, because that was really messed up.)
Last week he came home, immediately found me in the living room, dropped his stuff, ripped up his pant leg, plopped his ankle on the coffee table and said, Look at THIS! There was an oozing gash at the bottom of his calf, and his upper ankle was so swollen it was barely recognizable. It looked like it belonged on a person who was 8 feet tall and weighed 400 lbs. And was greenish.
Husband’s team had been playing the #1 Old Man Team and were winning. Evidently this displeased the other team which has a tendency to play dirty whenever possible. There was an egregious foul perpetrated by a certifiable asshat and THAT –> was the result. Stupid asshat. As it happens, one of the players on Husband’s team happens to be an ER doc (gotta have a day job, I s’pose) who assured Husband that it would swell and bruise like crazy, but was not broken. (He obviously has x-ray vision). He was right about the swelling and bruising. I assume he was right about it not being broken, because, according to the owner of the ankle, it didn’t really hurt that bad. And he played soccer on it again yesterday. Of course. Not sure if he realized I noticed him limping around when he got out of bed this morning…
Thanks husband for the Sunday Smackdown material and just so you know, if it isn’t better soon, you have to get a real x-ray.