Mrs. Yoy: I'm Slamming!

This evening, I shuttled the Yoys over to have dinner with Mr. Yoy.

We opted for the deli in the bottom of the building.  It was a beautiful evening and we wanted to sit outside.

On one of the many trips I took rushing in and out of the patio door for things like multiple bathroom runs, trash dumps,  and drink refills, I slammed my ring finger in the door.

The door closed squarely on my fingernail.

I rushed out to the patio and begin half crying/half hyperventilating.

I'm not sure I've ever slammed my finger in a door and if I have, it's been like 25 years.

The pain was gut wrenching.  I wanted to barf.

Mr. Yoy ran into the place to get me some ice.

The Yoys did one better.  They both ran up to me and kissed my finger.

Big E even asked how many kisses I needed to make my finger feel better.


The enormity of the number startled him, as I don't think he was looking for a long-term commitment.

The point is, both my sweet boys came over to comfort me in my time of need.

Let's all say it together now.


I hope this doesn't affect my career as a hand model.


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