But that didn't stop me from asking the tough questions when I got home. Matt made burgers for dinner, and while he cooked I sat at the island and floated out deep, philosophical scenarios, like "We have a pinkie finger and pinkie toe, so why do we have a thumb, but a big toe? Why don't we call our thumb our big finger, or our big toe our thumb toe?"
Can you tell I've essentially spent the last 48 hours all alone with my thoughts?
Of which there are MANY?
Matt responded by saying, "Well, It's actually called your PIGGY toe, not your pinkie toe."
"So, if you hurt your tiniest toe and had to go to the doctor, what would you say?" I asked him.
And he said, "I'd tell him that I hurt my piggy toe."
Let's hope his toes stay injury free for the rest of forever, and that this little piggy goes only to market and not to the emergency room because that would be quite embarrassing.
Anyway, my favorite thing to do when I get home from spending a few days in meetings and hotels is to take a nice, long walk in the woods. Bring on the weekend and the fresh air and hopefully, a few walks.