I'm doing my best to make my eye patch look good, but I think they're just one of those accessories that don't work on anyone.
I was bending into the dark abyss behind the front door, under the coat rack overloaded with bags, where the stroller is kept out of the rain, shoes pile up, dog hair clumps and the broom and dust pan are stored, searching for my shoes. I didn't see the broken handle of the dust pan and it went right into my eye. I didn't drop the baby but I did enhance her vocabulary with some colorful expletives.
Nicole, my hero sister in law came to my rescue. I suppose I will forever be grateful that she insisted I get a cell phone as I used it to call her. I used my big girl calm voice to debrief her on the situation and she was coming through the gate in less than five minutes. A few minutes more and my brother arrived to take me to urgent care in the next town over.
Less than thirty minutes passed and I had an eye patch and a prescription for anti-inflammatory eye drops.
It hurts. I'm sure I'll have a black eye in the morning but it may take me a few days to really get the pirate jargon perfected. Arg.