Yesterday afternoon...

...my sister called me.

She brightly chirped: "Are you doing anything special at the moment?", sounding as if she wanted to go to the cinema with us or something.
As I was feeling extremely lazy and Hubby was dozing on the sofa, I replied: "Hmnaaa, and I don't feel like doing anything right now..."

Mel said (still sounding insanely cheerful): "That's too bad, as I need you to drive me to the hospital!"

I: "..."

She: "I think my finger might be broken. Either that, or it's a bruise from hell."

As it turned out, it wasn't broken, "only" very badly bruised, but it looked like the middle joint was smashed to pieces.
It was swollen horribly and turning a nice shade of blue.

How she managed to do this to herself?
Gneeheeheee, ask her...