Specifically the door to my apartment. The very heavy, metal, self-slamming door to my apartment.
No matter what shenanigans the kids are getting up to in the hall, no matter how badly you need to use your right hand, which was holding the door, to break up whatever the hell they are doing that is making one of them screech that much, do not, under any circumstances, move said right hand until you are good and sure that your left hand hasn’t found its way into the crevice between the door and its frame, over by the hinges. Especially if you are the only parent at home.
On the plus side, checked out the new local ER, where everyone is very nice, and found out which neighbor will come to check if you really, really, really scream. And I got some classy pics of my somehow not broken fingers.
April 4, 2016 at 8:22 pm
Owie!!!!! Hope your hand is on the mend.
April 8, 2016 at 10:28 am
Thank you. It by now hurts far less than it has any right to, though I’d also be okay with it not hurting at all.
April 4, 2016 at 9:02 pm
Humans are remarkably springy, aren’t we?
April 8, 2016 at 10:28 am
It is rather shocking. Even though it has now been pointed out to be that “no acute break” doesn’t mean exactly “no part of your bone is broken.” Still. I’ll take it.
April 5, 2016 at 4:15 am
Ouch 😦 Glad you somehow got away without fractures. (H recently broke his shoulder, rendering me the only parent for practical purposes)
April 8, 2016 at 10:29 am
Egad. Shoulders are important!
(Naturally, this all happened when I knew Jackalope had been in a poopy diaper for some time (on the bus) and really needed to be changed. That was fun.)
April 5, 2016 at 9:52 am
FUUUUUUUUUUUCK. I am so sorry. I live in terror of door injuries. Glad you’re not going to be dealing with a broken hand (such a lovely hand it is!). And glad there’s a neighbor who does respond to screaming.
April 8, 2016 at 10:30 am
He’s the same guy who knocked on our door VERY late once, leading to extreme irritation…until we discovered that what he was doing was trying to find the home of a lost, senile woman who didn’t speak English. Good egg.