Aussie word of the day: injury edition

Once again, I call my husband out on this blog, and I end up feeling like a putz.  Last time it was accusing him of being a pussy, and it turned out he had such a bad case of pneumonia they almost didn't let him leave the hospital because his oxygen levels were so low.  This time, I accuse him of being childish and saddling me with all of the family responsibilities, and it turns out he didn't come home the other night not because he was merely sore, as he told me, but because it turns out he has a cracked rib, a separated shoulder, and a sprained wrist.

"It was a pretty good stack, baby," he told me.

"Stack" is Aussie for "crash on the bike."

I separated my shoulder four years ago when I had a bad stack, and I couldn't really use my shoulder for a month.  At least J has some range of motion and isn't too terribly uncomfortable.

So when I leave for the airport in about 3 minutes to go spend the weekend with my family in Oregon (we're celebrating my aunt and uncle's 40th anniversary), he'll at least have the use of his arm when he's got the kids to himself for the next two days.

Have a nice weekend, honey!