An Easter basket tried to kill me. Really. I have an inch-long gash on my foot to prove it.
I walked into a messy room (my fault. I totally need to clean it) and tripped over the basket. I've had the basket for a while. I was trying to decide what to do with it. It's the same blue as my bathroom and it has cute butterflies on it. So it's been sitting in the room I use as my closet apparently waiting for me to trip over it.
I tripped over it and in those milliseconds where I knew I was going to fall hard, I saw that in my path was a borrowed $2,500 computer. So I twisted and fell even harder—as to not crush the computer. My foot took the brunt of the fall, the metal of the basket cutting into it. The end result was a bloody and swollen gash that left me limping for the rest of the night. It's since scabbed over but I have to be careful how I walk. And I'm not sure I've ever had a cut on the underside of the arch of my foot before. Oh well.
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