I don’t believe that I’m a particularly accident-prone guy.  But I have to finally cede the fact that I have been to the hospital a fair share more times than the average 30 year old.  I found my way back to the ER this past Tuesday, when it felt like I snapped my foot off at the ankle during a night of basketball.  An unfortunate drive to the hoop and an awkward landing on someone’s foot was all I needed to ruin my evening (and more).

Thank goodness it was only a sprain.  Everyone who witnessed it was certain of a break, and I had little reason to dispute their observations.  I have never felt such intense pain in my life.  It was almost enough to make me give up the game.  Almost.  Not quite enough, though.  

The good news is that it’s only been a week since the injury and I’m walking again.  Very little limping going on, except in the morning.  The wife says I look like the Tin Man, with my unsightly shuffle-step.

I felt bad that I injured myself only a day before we left for Utah.  We tried to make the most of it, keeping our plans intact for the majority of the time.  I could do very little to help out; injuring the right foot meant that I couldn’t even drive.  The best I could do was hold SaraJane when I was being carted around in a wheelchair.  

We saw plenty of family and a few friends.  There never seems to be enough time to see everyone.  I’m sure that if we ran around enough, we could have.  But then we’d have needed the “vacation from the vacation” that you hear about so often.

A minor note about the drive home; it seems that a bit more faith in Google Maps might be in order.  About 100 miles or so  before we reached the normal turnoff to the 20, we decided to try driving through Las Vegas.  I had never done it before, but had heard good things about it.  Every so often, I would double-check my route on the trusty iPhone, wanting to be sure that I had everything in order.

Each time, Google Maps tried to get me to get myself back to highway 89.  Even when I had passed Cedar City, it again tried to get me to rethink my strategy and pull back for the normal route.  My wife and I thought the program had gone bananas, and thusly ignored its suggestions.

I should have taken the hint when I finally passed through Las Vegas, and the iPhone informed me that I should hug the Arizona-California border and head home that way.  Seemed like an awful waste of time to me.  Oh, how wrong we were.  Never again will I pass that route.  Driving to Mesa from the 93/60 is the worst route imaginable.   

Finally, a happy birthday to my newest nephew, Parker Bowden.  Parker was born today, weighing in at 6 lb. 13 oz.  Welcome to the world, little buddy.  You’ve got yourself quite the family to enjoy the journey with.  

For those of you who may have missed it at the Moblah’g, check this out.

No…he still won’t pet a dog.  But he will allow a six foot python around his neck.  Love that boy.

I’ve always known that Sumner likes salty foods.  As soon as he was young enough to reach the salt shakers at restaurants, he has tried his hardest to put sodium on everything he eats*.

Yesterday evening, I set myself to task with the weekly laundry duties, while putting SaraJane down for a nap and turning a movie on for Sumner.  It’s acceptable to me that Sumner can choose a snack for himself from the shelf he can reach, usually a granola bar or some fruit snacks.  Instead of one of these more sensible choices, Sumner decided to take it upon himself to scramble up the rows of shelves to find an entire bag of pretzels, one of his favorites.  I have nothing against them, however; Sumner has no portion controls skills yet, especially when tuning out to a movie.  So, unbeknownst to me, Sumner whiled away the time snacking on the whole bag.

After the movie was done, he ran upstairs to greet me and see if I needed any help  with the laundry duties (good kid, afterall).  I said no, but that we should go back downstairs to clean up.  It was then that I found the empty bag, and more purposeful to the story, it was then that Sumner decided to vomit abundantly.

It should be noted that Sumner is a good sport, and realized the error of his ways even while throwing up the consequence of his snacking indulgence.  He looked up at me and said, quite matter-of-factly, “I had too much salt, I think”.  I agreed with him, and continued on cleaning up the mess he made.

Much later that evening, while discussing the event with the wife, Sumner gave me further revelation into his snacktime adventures.  Seems that Sumner didn’t stop at the end of the bag, oh no.  He decided that waste not, want not, and ate every grain of salt left over in the bag.  The boy.loves.salt.

If possible, next time you have an empty bag of pretzels, check and see how much salt is left in the bottom.  Then picture a five year old boy eating all of it.  Then imagine my gratitude that Sumner did end up puking it all out.   

A pretty grand adventure in the world of parenting, indeed.  

*No, we don’t let him.  Though he still tries to angle himself toward the salt shakers at every restaurant we go to!

I realized today that I hadn’t published any of our pictures from our awesome trip to Disneyland on March the 13th.  Here are a few of them!