why i need a man EDITED to read why i need MY man

NOTE: I needed to change the name of this so my hubby would shut up about needing a man vs. needing him. Poor thing.

I decided today to break in my new shoes before tomorrow morning’s 5-mile March for Babies after a few friends of mine scolded me for having no brains and choosing to wear brand-new shoes for a walk that would most definitely lead to blisters and lots of pain.

So I took the babes for a walk/bike ride. The older two rode up ahead while I tried to keep up with Little Man in a stroller.

About 15 minutes into our very sweaty walk (it was about 83 when we set out, according to our thermometer. Welcome to spring in Indiana), Middle Man’s chain falls off his bike.

In his words, “of course.”

So here we are, far enough away from home that I don’t feel like carrying the damn bike, and we have a dangling chain.

I have never in my life fixed a busted bike chain, so I’m all “fargin, blahmet, bastardhead, dingleberry butt, geezus louises, etc.” as I to stretch the chain back over the spokey things.

The chain doesn’t stretch. I kept trying. I told the kids I was gonna be REALLY PISSED if I got grease on my new shoes. I kept saying “I think it’s gonna work” as the 8-year-old says, “I don’t think that’s how Dad did it,” and the 6-year-old is like “Nope, that’s definitely not the way dad did it the other day,” and I’m all like, “Shut the hell up, it’s gonna work” while thinking “Why in the hell didn’t I learn my lesson and NOT take them out on this damn bike ride when this just happened the other day while we all three were riding and I ended up CARRYING his bike while I rode my bike and got lots of stares from people driving past as if they thought I was some sort of circus act, balancing a kids’ bike on my left arm while riding very wobbly down the street holding the bars with the other hand. But I did it, dammit, and I got all the way home without falling and I felt like such a badass for doing it and I knew my left arm muscle grew about two inches (at least!) that day.

Don’t mess with me.

So anyway, here I am and I’m about to stretch the damn bike chain when my hand slips and my finger shoots up behind the spokey things and I about fall over cause the pain was a bit intense but I still want to be a badass so I just back up and hold my finger and say “ouch, that was ugly” and …

blood.

dripping.

almost on my new freakin’ shoes.

That’s all I could think about. Dripping blood on my new shoes.

So we push the bike back to a friend’s house for some emergency maintenance. He got out the tools while I washed my hands.

I’m attaching a photo I took with my phone for proof that as much of a badass as I like to think I am, I must admit I am not always.

And this is definitely one good reason why I need a (my) man.

Bike chains do not stretch. Damn.

Grease mixed with a little blood after bike chain incident.

Grease mixed with a little blood after bike chain incident.

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One thought on “why i need a man EDITED to read why i need MY man

  1. If it’s any consolation, I didn’t notice the finger today, but I did notice your cool new purple shoes! 🙂

    It was great to meet you today! Glad your heart told you to walk and glad mine did too!

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