A Sprained Ankle as Vector for the Plague

Clara sprained her ankle the other day.  She was running down the cow path (or the Bovine Trail, as Kim fancily refers to it) and fell.  It seemed somewhat serious, so Bridges carried her all the way home, and Lynne (our local retired pediatrician) checked it out.  Just a sprain, but we had to be cautious in case of a fracture on the growth plate, and we should keep her off it the rest of the day.  Yeah, right.

It happened to be the day of Patricia's memorial service, which was followed by a big picnic at the neighborhood.  Lots of kids running around, and no chance of keeping Clara off that ankle.  Of course, when she was happily running on it several hours later we just assumed she was fine and let it go.

But Lee, whom we've often called Calamity Jane because of her propensity to flock to even the most minor disaster and blow it all out of proportion, couldn't give up on the idea of the sprained ankle.  She kept chastising Clara, telling her not to walk on it.  By the next morning, Clara had gotten pretty fed up with this, and ran to us, screaming "Lee says I shouldn't walk on my ankle because I'm going to grow funny or get the plague!"

We just laughed.