or "Oh Crap; a play in five short acts"
While taking your sleeping child out of the car, slam your thumb in the door.
Whimper and weep all night with your hugely swollen thumb wrapped in bags of frozen vegetables. Pace the floor when the nausea no longer allows you to stay in bed. Curse your husband for sleeping so soundly through your misery.
Cry bitter tears and beg for mercy while your husband drills a hole (or three) in the black nail, in an attempt to bleed the nail before your thumb explodes.
Answer endless questions from your two-year-old about the door and your thumb and the bag of corn on your thumb and Daddy making a hole in the thumb and Mommy crying and the door and your thumb. Feel ashamed for being so weepy and whiny in front of her.
Continue to feel wiped out and slightly vomitous; encourage your child for the first time in her life to watch DVDs all day long.
Stay up later than you should, typing blog posts with two fingers because you dread lying in bed all night while your thumb throbs and your husband snores. Weigh the benefits of attempting to take your socks or pants off without using said thumb. Decide it's not worth it, grab a bag of frozen peas and fall into bed with much muttering and gnashing of teeth.