I stopped in to visit a friend. We were sitting on a bench by her chicken pens comparing bruises and cuts resulting from our impatience and an inability to look where we are going when we are in a hurry, which is always. This activity reminded me of ‘pitchfork toe’. Probably one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done.

I was splitting wood in flip flops. Yup. I know. I said this was probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. There was a pitchfork leaning against a tree in the area where I was working. I was throwing wood off to the side as I worked and wouldn’t you know, the pitchfork had slipped off the tree on which it was leaning and I was burying it with my pile of split wood. I took a break and as I walked by the wood pile, I stepped into the business end of that pitchfork wearing my flip flops. I ran one of the prongs up under my big toe nail about half way down the length of the nail. My toenail would die a slow and painful death, every day turning a new shade of the rainbow in remembrance of my bad decision. Pitchfork toe.  Cue bad country song titled “I’ll never wear flip flops for farm chores again.”   Moving on…

My friend says, “I have a story like that”. She proceeds to tell me she was hoeing. Yup. I’ve only heard the opening line and it’s already a much better story. She was hoeing in the garden and she really didn’t want to hoe, so she was complaining to her mom. Of course, she’s hoeing barefoot. She’s told to keep hoeing and she does, maybe with a little attitude, and accidentally hoes her big toenail off. Hoe toe. I’ve never seen her wear flip flops. This is obviously a lesson better learned early in life.