when my younger brother was three, or maybe four, he had quite the flair for dramatics.
(think made up opera songs about his underwear. that will totally embarrass him, sorry. good thing he doesn't read my blog).
Anyway. At night, when my parents would tell him it was time for bed, he would start the journey down the hallway...and then collapse. "Ohhh," he would moan. "My legs are broke."
Because who would go to bed with broken legs, duh?
Sometimes, when I'm pregnant, my hips and legs forget how to work the right way, and I'm not able to walk.
The other night, as Travis was carrying me to the bathroom, I laughed through my tears, remembering that story.
Hey, Jake, my legs are "broke" too.
Thanks for the laugh.