When it rains, it pours.
I'd been thinking that blaming my back pain every time I took a day off made me sound like a total wimp. But when I didn't give a reason last time, it made me look like I'd gotten full of myself.
I really hadn't.
I just didn't want to be seen as some weak, blubbering loser.
But—
It hurt so much that I couldn't sleep in the middle of the night. Taking painkillers helped a little, but even rolling over was still difficult.
Fine, call me weak.
Call me a crybaby, too.
I couldn't beat the pain. I admit it.
Actually, after some rest and stretching exercises, my back had been getting a little better.
But accidents always catch you off guard.
Last night, after getting our kid to sleep, we left my mom to watch over them, and my wife and I went out to spend a little time together, just the two of us.
We rode out, not far, to a nearby Lanzhou noodle shop, where we shared a bowl of hand-pulled noodles.
My wife said that before she met me, she'd always thought Lanzhou hand-pulled noodles were a kind of stewed noodle dish, so she'd never tried them. Only after I took her out to try them did she realize how tasty they were.
We talked about old times and enjoyed a late-night meal.
Afterward, we passed a bakery on our way home.
I'll buy some bread for breakfast, I thought. That way, we won't have to make breakfast tomorrow.
Then the accident happened.
It had just rained, so the ground was slippery, and the kickstand wasn't set properly. The bike tipped over while we were parking.
That wasn't a big deal. Neither of us fell.
Then—I went to lift the bike.