It's Called a Wrist-O-Prene™

The product of an extremely glamorous selfie photo shoot.

Today, I voted. In our city, there was only one measure on the ballot this election, but it was an important one. The majority of the poll workers at my voting place appeared to be in their 80s. My favorite lady was wearing a fancy blouse with small bedazzled American flags on it.

Anyway.

That ridiculous face-plant-fall I had the other day? Turns out I have a concussion and a wrist situation so the doctor has instructed me to wear a splint on my wrist for two more weeks. The octogenarian handing out the "I Voted" stickers today took a look at my wrist brace and earnestly asked, "Bowling injury?" I replied that I had tripped on the sidewalk.

Sticker Guy was visibly disappointed that I had not actually had a bowling mishap. I wish I would have just said, "I had an out of control axis tilt on a baby split in the fourth frame." Or even, "Yes."

Obviously, I need a better story.

Ideas?