They call me Boots.

Well, we had some excitement around our house earlier this week.

One of the things that Presley really loves to do is watch the cars as they come and go from our subdivision. Our house backs up to the entrance of the subdivision so if we look over our back fence it gives a good view of everyone. She loves to wave to the cars and blow kisses to them. I feel like it's our good deed for that day. : )

So we get a little stool to raise us off the ground about 18inches. And she gets to her job of showering everyone with love. (I try to get her to be a bit more discriminate with her affection, but she doesn't listen.)

So then she see's Derek coming home so we jump off of the stool to go meet him inside. Unfortunately, my ankle didn't quite get the message of what we were doing. So when we hit the ground, my right ankle just rolled and crumpled underneath me. I like to imagine it in slow motion, but in all reality I think we hit the ground pretty quickly.

Like the fabulously wonderful mother that I am, I did protect my daughter and she was fine. But I do think that our rapid descent to the ground, as well as the fact that her mother was screaming, scared her quite a bit.

So after a quick trip to Urgent Care, we learned that it was an ankle/foot sprain and I would be sporting a boot for a while. Luckily, black is always in fashion and it is a walking boot. I'm not sure how easy it would have been to cart around a 14month old while using crutches.

And all this just to blow some kisses to strangers.

We could almost fit her in that boot. : )