I wish someone had told me kissing was a full contact sport.

I would have worn appropriate protection.

 

 

You’d think after many happy years of marriage the husband and I would have perfected the technique, but alas…. accidents happen.

 

 

And this kiss was rather like a train wreck.

Yesterday when the other half came home from work, I went into the kitchen to give him a smooch.

I moved in, he moved in… and bam!

 

 

He broke my toe.

 

 

Talk about seeing stars.

And not in a good way…

 

 

Sadly, my feet are my worst feature and I have troubles. The troubles of a woman 30 years older than she actually is.

Bunions? Check.

The beginning of hammer toes? Check.  (Thanks mom, it’s hereditary)

And I’m always barefoot in the summer so this isn’t my first rodeo with broken toes.

It is however, my first broken toe due to kissing.

Which makes me wonder if I need to wear this next time we get frisky in the bedroom…

 

 

(Minus the cigar of course.)

Either that…

Or I need to learn  Taekwon-toe.

 

 

I know…

But I couldn’t resist!