I recall posting recently about boomers busting future records for knee and hip replacements because we created the exercise boom and now we're paying the price.

May I add myself to this category?

While playing tennis with my son today, I went left to return a serve and the top of my leg went with me, while the bottom somehow stayed where it was. I hit the dirt knowing I had done something seriously wrong to my knee.

Sonny boy came to the rescue, took me to the ER, and I am now on the couch with my leg elevated, ice pack under my knee, leg brace the size of Florida next to me, and a prescription to have an MRI by my favorite orthopod this week.

I am an orthopaedic nightmare. I've already torn my other ACL playing soccer with the kids at a church function, popped my achilese (spelled way wrong) while playing tennis, and now have done who knows what to this knee.

Ross and I have all kinds of plans for our empty nest (second child leaves this week, third one shortly thereafter), but God must have something else in store. I'll keep you posted.

Oh, and did I mention we're having company for dinner? This should be interesting.