We came home two days early- weren’t supposed to be back until Tuesday morning. (for those who didn’t know we were leaving, we went to Charleston for the 4th of July weekend and to take T to the beach before he leaves)
I broke my foot in two places. I would tell you how this happened but then I would have to kill you. It’s too mortifying to share but let’s just say that it involved a pair of heels, a bottle of wine and an eager husband.
Should we all just use our imagination on this one?
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