Let’s just say this past week will go down in Allison history as one of the more unfortunate weeks we have had. On Thursday, I got a mild case of Matt’s disease. As I struggled to take care of our active little guy while feeling downright terrible, my respect for my own mother skyrocketed. Sure enough, as soon as I put Carson down for the night, I fell fast asleep on the couch.

Well, around 9:30, my lovely husband sauntered in from his night class with a sheepish look on his face. “Catherine, since you’re awake, I guess I need to tell you my bad news.” This is definitely not something my nauseated self wanted to hear… but it got worse. He proceeded to tell me how he stuck around after class that night to chat with his professor and to help clean up the classroom. As he went to put the huge projector screen up, the entire thing came out of the wall onto his head. Apparently, his head started pouring blood and his poor Zimbabwean professor just kept saying “ohhh nooo ohhh nooo” in his thick accent. Leave it to Matt to drive right on home, forty minute trip and all, with a gaping head wound.

As soon as I laid my eyes on his head, I sent him straight to the ER. Alone. After all, Carson had been asleep for hours, and I was hovering over the toilet myself. Eight staples later, my brave hubby is back at ’em and is ultra proud of his battle wounds. I am so very grateful that his injuries were not more severe… but I also can’t help but chuckle when thinking of how bizarre (yet so very suiting to the week we have just experienced) this little accident was.