A Disney Fan Re-broke my Foot

Five weeks ago, I broke my foot to the tune of “Let it Go” from Frozen.

This past week, a huge fan of the movie decided to carry a book starring its characters to me in a mad dash, kicking my injured foot and re-breaking it in the process.

I’ve been extremely protective of the broken foot during this healing time.  Popular estimates place the recovery time of a broken toe/foot around a month or two, so, much like Bon Jovi, I was half-way there and livin’ on a prayer.  …A prayer to which the answer was “no.”

But then today, at the preschool where I spend my Wednesdays, little Aria failed to listen to two things.

1) We don’t run at Heath because he has a broken foot.  (The cuteness with which most kids would tiptoe around me was off the charts.  They took such care!)

2) No, that Frozen book isn’t Heath’s.  He brought it as a gift because this dump’s owners are too cheap to buy new books more than once a decade.  Some kids asked if they should put it in my bag; other kids answered loudly and for all to hear “It’s a gift!  It goes to the shelf!”

Enter little Aria, notorious for her inability to listen to a word that is said.  Prior to this day, her interruptions of other students had been tolerated because it was also kind of cute; she’d say a lot of funny stuff.  In hindsight, I should have taken extra care to make her, specifically, repeat things I said and tell me why I said them.

I’d been sitting cross-legged with my opposite knee protecting my foot from above, my raised arms attempting to keep children a safe distance away.  When Ren wandered by, no problem, the arm was there.  Little Miyu goes astray and loses track of where she is, it’s cool, my arm knew.  Kids want to sit on my lap?  I allow one, and on the left side so as not to put weight down on the injury.  I announce very publicly the reason why only one kid can sit on my lap.  (This is a preschool and the teachers are very popular — you sit down and there’ll be kids queuing up to plunk down and share some quality time with ya.)

Aria saw the book that was allegedly mine, then broke the rule about running inside AND the more specific rule about running near Heath to come right at me.

Me: “Arm barrier, GO!”
Arm: “It’s no good, the kicking out motion is gonna sneak her foot right under  the thigh!”
Thigh: “I can’t do anything here!  If I go down I’ll crush it!”
Me: “Stay right there thigh!  Foot, brace for impact!  I’m so sorry!”
Foot: “Should be OK, captain, her little toes will have some give to them and…oh no…oh Buddha no, bad news, nooooo!”
Me: “What!?”
Foot: “She’s wearing CROCS!”
Me: “CROCS!?!?!?”
Thigh: “The worst thing Satan ever invented!”
Foot: “The thing you swore to never let touch me!  It’s coming right for me!  And it’ll do so much more damage than just making me look stupid!”
Arm: “Oh I’m so glad there’s no arm equivalent of a Croc!”


My foot, like the Titanic, stayed the course.  And like the Titanic, it was destroyed by something less than half its size.

I hadn’t felt pain in the broken foot for about a week.  My hobble was slowly evolving into a more normal walk — not completely without its lopsidedness but certainly not as bad as it had been in the first days after the injury.  Now, taking steps hurts once again.
The physical pain isn’t bad — nor was it on the first day of the original injury.  It’s the pain that WILL come IF I bend the big toe, is the the thing.  The act of walking hurts, and at a standstill, there’s a throbbing annoyance that I hadn’t felt since probably mid June.  It feels hot under the skin, like it’s on fire.

Frozen is the best movie Disney has made in like, nearly two decades, yet it will always remain in the back of my mind as the movie that indirectly broke and re-broke one of my bones.