I blame the uneven ground at the Garden of Unearthly Delights *sniff* rather than the champagne consumed during a midnight cabaret show.
A group of girls asked me if I was OK. I responded that the only thing hurt was my pride. Moi, the queen of high heels stumbling around in the dirt! Only later did I notice when I inspected the damage (and brushed off some dead grass) that there was a fair bit of blood. Oops. My over-the-knee socks clearly provided little protection.
Just a little warning, there are pictures ahead. Skip now if you're squeamish!
The pain kept me awake last night, but I know that sleep is a big healer, knitting the skin back together.
Maybe I'll even get a scar!
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OUCH! you know what you need? your mummy to kiss it better. works a treat srsly.
ReplyDeleteYes, yowch. My mummy cleaned it up for me last night and told me that I was a brave girl.
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