I Hate the Highchair

Oh my gosh. I hate the high chair. Actually I hate how it seems to be a dang-blasted magnet for toes, especially little bitty pinky toes.

Yes, the dumb thing has been in pretty much the same spot for the last six months or so. But that doesn’t mean the my toes remember it each time we walk by. I know the Husband has stubbed his toes on it a number of times and so have I. But today it hurt really, really bad when I kicked the dumb thing.

You know how bad toe pain can be, as soon as your foot makes contact with whatever object it is, you feel it down in the pit of you stomach. Your entire body lurches as you try to avoid the impending impact. But it’s no use, the foot is in motion, the rock solid object is not budging and there is nothing you can do but brace yourself for the pain and try to control the stream of four-letter words that you want to shout.

It’s been several minutes and my toes are still throbbing. OUCH! The Little One needs to get a bit taller so we can move on to a booster and sell the damn toe magnet highchair to some other unsuspecting family.