I pick up my plate and head into the kitchen after a yummy meal cooked by none other than my mother. My brother and my mom respectively are both in the kitchen. That's when disaster happens.

I don't know how it happens, but somehow I trip over my brother's foot. As it happens, I snag my fourth toenail on the top of his foot. This toenail has never grown in right and always sticks out awkwardly, so it's no surprise that I whacked it on something - again. I've done it many times before.

It hurts more than usual, but I don't really notice. I mean, I hit my brother's foot really hard, so why shouldn't it hurt? I return to my duties in the kitchen. 

"Who's bleeding?" My mom gasps and points to the tile below my feet.

There is blood on the floor.

Realization hits me. So that's why my foot hurts worse than usual!

My fourth toe is covered in blood. Why? I don't know, only that my brother must have a really hard foot. 

Long story short, we wrapped my foot in a rag, then went in to show it to my dad. After a long deliberation, we decided that yes, the toenail was coming off, and yes, we needed to get it taken care of, and no, I did not want to do it at home by ourselves. So we headed off to urgent care. That ended up being an adventure in and of itself...