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Why are husbands so darn stubborn?  Last night I got a text from him partway through his volleyball game, telling me he was coming home early because he had sprained his ankle.  I immediately went down to the deep freezer and started digging for the cooler ice packs, but discovered that there was some ice build-up on the inner front-side.  I gently took the flat head screw driver and the mallet and got a few chunks of ice.  Once he got home, we bagged the ice and used our meat hammer to break up the ice chunks.

This morning, he woke up obviously in some pain.  He tried to stand, and I could see him wince as he tried to put pressure on the sprained ankle.  We iced it for a short while and then he decided it might be ok to go to work.  I protested as I watched him hobble into the washroom, perched on one leg brushing his teeth.  Stairs are another obstacle.

But he’s left the house.  I hope he managed to find a parking spot close to the front doors at the office.

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