I’m pretty certain I broke my toe last night. This toe. The toe that was mangled beyond recognition by a wrestling mat. Poor lil toe. How, you might ask, did I break it again? There is some sort of baby contraption in our bedroom (Jason’s boss has been bringing him a bunch of baby stuff because his babies aren’t babies anymore, very kind, but we still haven’t figured out where to put everything in this tiny little apartment – [good lord, where are we going to put a BABY?] so some of it is haphazardly placed in odd corners), that apparently migrated right into my coming-back-from-the-bathroom path so at really late o’clock when I was stumbling back from my second, pregnancy-induced bathroom visit my little toe hooked on it. And then it throbbed for 45 minutes. I wonder if that toe pokes out more than normal or something. Really. This is like, the 3rd time, I think, that it has been busted. Poor lil toe.