Yes, I managed to sprain it playing basketball. I haven't played in YEARS . . . like 12 of them . . . and I used to joke that I retired after 10th grade. Man, if only I hadn't fallen for the Michael Jordan syndrome and come out of retirement.
But alas, there we are. Stupid ankle. (Doh! That word again. London would be scolding me if he knew.)
Fortunately, I had wonderful people to take care of me. One of them even loaned me the leopard-print pillow (which, I might add, is very soft and perfect for propping up my foot).
So let's see, I have now sprained both ankles and most of my fingers at one time or another (we won't mention the time I slammed my own finger in the door when I was mad . . . teen years shouldn't count, right?), strained my right quadriceps, and broken my wrist, toe, and nose.
How about you? Please assure me that this is typical, and I'm not really a clutz. Look right for a poll.