Lavetta and Her Amazing Technicolor Pinky Toe

Having now officially broken my right little toe for the 3rd time I have to document the event for prosperity.
The first time I broke this digit was when my daughter was in elementary school. It was a particularly painful break the first time. It was summer, it was hot and flip flops had not yet made their reappearance in everyday life. My daughter was playing softball and I was helping coach which required me to cram that painful foot inside a tight tennis shoe. Taking the shoe strings out was the only thing that made a shoe tolerable. **Side note to Kaylee - you thought those shoestrings used to tie up your shirt sleeves were my attempt to radically change softball fashion. But in truth, that was the only place I could put them to insure I wouldn't lose them.**
The second time I broke the toe I was working in a business setting which made wearing pantyhose and heels a necessity. I can't decide which was the most painful. Wrestling my foot into a tight nylon prison or then cramming the whole shebang into a shoe that was originally designed as an instrument of torture.
In betwixt and between actual breakage there were many other near misses and badly bruised evidence. Each time I was relieved to see a swift recovery.
I have now determined that humans are not only right or left handed. They are also right or left footed. If this were not the case I would have surely broken the left toe at least once in nearly 6 decades of life. But no! I guess I will always be putting my "best" foot forward first and leading with my pinky toe which as I type is starting to resemble a sadly misshapen black olive (without pimento).
This breakage came about because my little love of a granddog decided to visit a neighbors back fence and stir up the resident dogs at 4:00 in the morning. I went flying down the driveway, well maybe not flying, I do exaggerate sometimes. Perhaps in my current body style the verb would be "rumbled". Anywhoooo toe met curb and street met body. I'm sure I was quite a pretty sight writhing around in the street trying to clutch my injured digit. Fortunately, Charly doesn't like to be too far away from his "peeps" and he apparently couldn't see me in the street, behind the mailbox in the dark. He came looking for me at which time we returned to the house. He in his usual running at full tilt with ears back and me hopping behind.
I've also noticed that once you have a toe injured, inanimate objects seem to acquire a pain seeking beam and they position themselves to make it possible for you to bump it, bang it re-bruise and re-break it.
So in closing, my little toe is taped tightly to its' brother toe and is not being allowed to "hang out" by itself. Time has taught me that it will get better providing I can properly protect it from further knocks. In the meantime I am enjoying the kaleidoscope of colors it has brought into my world.