Yikes. I got a call from my little brother this morning that went something like this:
"Hey!" My brother says. "Did you hear the news?"
Since his wife is like 102 weeks pregnant, I assumed his little daughter made her grand debut.
"Did Amber have the baby?" I ask.
"No, but Dad broke his leg in two places and shattered his elbow." he replies.
My parents spend every Tuesday night at the local bowling alley, bowling with a lot of their teacher friends. Since my Dad retired from the airforce and became a high school teacher, my parents have the most active social life of anyone I know. They bowl together, they play bridge, they have a dinner group every Friday. They follow baseball teams around and do crazy things like see Billy Joel/Elton John and Bruce Springsteen in the same week. To get some time with them means you have to pencil it in WAY in advance. Seriously.
Anyhoo, my Dad was trying to bowl for a turkey (If you don't know what that is, come over and play some Wii Bowling with my five year old and she'll definitely show you) and apparently he slipped on some grease on the floor and went down for the count. They are waiting for the orthopedic surgeon to become available, and then his ankle is getting operated on.
He's bummed. He's a bit grumpy. He's depressed that he can't play golf, or work in his garden, or drive his new car around. But he's not so sad that he can't go see Fleetwood Mac next month. He got tickets for my Mom's birthday.