Well I am to blame partly for Mom's broken toe. I thought it was a good idea Monday afternoon to transfer all my toys into Peter's room when he got up from his nap. So I made pretty good progress until Mom saw me dragging my kitchen into the hallway and to the entrance of Pete's room. Then she put her foot down and said no more. So of course I left the kitchen in the hall way.
After playing downstairs for awhile, Peter started crying for some reason, so Mom ran up stairs to get his blanket, which is one of the only things that will comfort him. On her way up she kicked the kitchen and collapsed in a heap of pain. She had broken her toe. Peter stopped crying after hearing her wails of distress and came up to investigate. He got his blanket, offered it to Mom and gave her a hug. I, on the other hand, came up, stepped over Mom to get to my toys, and started playing. Poor Mom!
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