Another one from the vault. I’ll be back next week with my usual sparkling, original content {when is somebody going to invent the sarcasm font?}.

Until then, here’s the story of the time I walked around with a toenail in my eye. For an entire day.

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Not a plank. A toenail.

There was a toenail in my eye.

Just typing it completely grosses me out. My guess is you’re both disgusted and curious. I can’t help you with the disgust, but I can solve your curiosity.

As I was clipping my toddler’s toenails, one of his little nails flew out of the clippers and right up into my eye. I blinked a few times, didn’t feel it anymore and went on with my day.

Ten hours later, my eye started to hurt. There was kind of a dull, throbbing pain in the back of my eye, and a sharper, more irritating pain around the front, specifically in area of my lower eyelid.

My husband and I were having a glass of wine and reviewing the endless to-do list (I mean, how is that for romance, baby? Ugh. We are old, married people.). I was so distracted by this eye irritant that I finally asked him to take a look.

Me: One of P’s toenails flew in my eye today and I think it must have left a scratch or something. Can you look?

[Imagine befuddled husband here.]

Mark: A what flew in your where?

Me: A toenail. In my eye. What’s so hard to understand?

[I pull my lower lid down a bit so he can look for the scratch.]

[Imagine horrified, creeped out husband here.]

Mark: I can see it. Hold still.

Me: Is it a big scratch?

Mark: No, I don’t see a scratch… I see a toenail!

[Imagine totally mortified me.]

Let’s just consider this for a second. There was a toenail, albeit a tiny, baby toenail, in my eye for ten hours. In my eye. For ten hours.

What, exactly, is the craziest part of this story? I have no idea. Is it that a toenail flew out of the clippers and into my eye in the first place? Or the fact that said toenail remained in my eye (in. my. eye.) for ten hours? Ten!

I knew that motherhood would entail sacrifices, pain, suffering and giving up some parts of me for the betterment of my children. I prepared myself for years of wiping (bottoms, noses, sticky counters and floors…). I prepared myself for lack of sleep. I prepared myself for trips to the ER and broken hearts and the eventual empty nest when the boys grow up. I prepared myself for baby giggles, family dinners, trips to the zoo. I prepared myself for amazing firsts. And days filled with hope. Nights filled with dreams.

I did not, in any way, prepare myself to one day remove my child’s toenail from my eye socket.

I kind of like the symmetry here, to be honest. I carried the child for ten months. I carried his toenail for ten hours. That’s nice, isn’t it?

I wonder, what’s your weirdest parenting-related injury?

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Two notes:

1. My eye is fine. Thank you for asking. It’s a bit watery and I still have a dull ache, but I am fairly certain there’s no permanent damage. At least not to my eye. I’m not sure Mark or I will ever look at a toenail the same way again.

2. What’s up with eyes this week? And P, for that matter? First he gets a shiner, and then his toenail is the culprit in this mishap. Not sure what to make of that…