It was Saturday afternoon. I was catching a short little nap to recharge a bit, and Aaron was busy in the backyard cutting some brush. Suddenly I heard “Jen!” I had heard that tone of voice before and knew there was some sort of emergency.
“I’m going to be ok, but I’m going to need stitches,” he said with his foot wrapped in dish towels.
We took a trip to the ER and returned home an hour later with 15 stiches in Aaron’s foot. Chainsaws and sandals, we found, are not a good combination.