The other night, while on our way to dinner with friends, we were driving down 55th street (an otherwise busy street that runs through Hinsdale) and we noticed something in the road. It was a Momma duck and 7 sweet little baby ducklings. They were in the center of the road, scurrying to get to safety. Most of the traffic that was approaching them, slowed down to allow them to get to the other side safely. But when the momma duck jumped up on the curb, the little ducklings were stranded; the curb was far too high for them to make it up so back into the street they went, missing passing cars by mere inches. We were so sad and concerned for them that we immediately jumped out of the car, all 3 of us (while the driver remained in the car) and we were running all over the road, trying to corral the baby ducks and to help them up onto the curb. While we were doing this, yours truly slips on my wedged heels and rolled my ankle. I heard a pop and that's when I knew something was wrong. I immediately limped back to the car, while the other 2 were still rallying up the little fuzzballs. A few minutes later, all the ducks were safe and sound, with their Momma and the 4 of us were en route to dinner, but my foot/ ankle was DYING-- So painful and so swollen. I literally had to walk barefoot through the restaurant (very classy, I know).
I woke up yesterday and could barely put weight on it-- something that is nearly impossible when you have two kids under 3. Ken did his best to allow me to sit with my foot elevated and iced. I'm happy to report that it feels a little better today.
For what it's worth, I hope those little quacklings are doing well. And I sure as hell hope they didn't run back into the street after we drove off. :-/