As I think we’ve already established, I am not what you’d call “the most graceful person in the world.” Let’s face it, I’m fairly often not even what you’d call “able to remain upright for extended periods.” Oh, okay, “brief periods.”
Anyhoo, my swanlike grace led me to step on the plug end of the vacuum cleaner cord the other day (see, Dear Sweet Mama? I had the vacuum cleaner out!) and now there’s a huge bruise on the sole of my foot. But it got me thinking — why does anything you do to your foot hurt like a bazillion times worse than if it was any other body part? When I stepped on that plug, I actually hollered and fell to the ground like Julia Roberts in “Steel Magnolias.” And she was DYING, yo. That’s how bad it hurt.
On the other hand (ha!) I once put my hand through a glass window (I was banging on a door to get my dogs to behave, and my hand went right through) and I had this big ol’ shard of glass literally HANGING (and I do mean “literally,” remember, I’m a word snob) out of my hand, and I managed to get the dogs in, get the glass out, get the boyfriend at the time (useless twat) to stop wigging out and call Dear Sweet Mama, and MOSTLY slow the bleeding down before I passed out. But if I stub my toe, I wail and cuss like I’ve been stabbed. Why IS that?