Several years ago, one of my cousins missed three days of work because he threw out his back.

I'm pretty sure he told the people he worked with that he'd injured himself doing something manly. Bullriding, perhaps. Or maybe anvil juggling.

Not the truth, though. Certainly not the truth, that he'd taken a mighty swing while playing wiffleball and that's how he'd hurt his back.

He'd have never lived that down.

At least his injury was a real one. Back problems can be truly incapacitating, as my cousin has pointed out to us at every opportunity for the past several years.

Nobody's going to make fun of you for having an injured back. So, as long as you have a good story about how you got injured, you're safe from teasing.

Not quite the same situation as the one I'm in.

My injury is quite possibly the most pathetic one possible.

I bwoke my widdlest piggy.

It's amazing how such a tiny appendage can cause so much pain. Why do we even need our pinkie toes? I think that, if the doctor had offered, I'd have allowed him to snip the thing off yesterday.

So I'm working from home today. I'm doing this because my toe is taped up and I cannot put a shoe on over it. Actually, maybe I could, but it would hurt. A lot. So I'm not going to chance it.

This is the most pansified reason for staying home that I've ever heard of.