Lucky because a house didn't fall on me, but falling out of one is no picnic either, I assure you.
I have an attached garage. I keep my nasty work shoes in there because bringing home what I step in every day/night into my home is NOT an option. As I was entering the garage to put my shoes on and leave for work, I stepped on kids boots (of course they were) that were on the STEP instead of where they should be (anywhere but the friggen step) and I stumbled (tote bag, lunch bag and COACH bag for God's sake). I caught myself though and I would have made it had it not been for DH's boots. The friggen boots that were where they "should" be but that didn't matter. None of that mattered.
The fall was NOT graceful.
The fall was NOT pretty.
What came out of my mouth made sailor's everywhere cover their ears and cringe. Truck driver's pulled over and curled into fetal positions.
My children went running......RUNNING for cover. My DH struggled in the Garden of Good and Evil and I could see how he was frantically volleying between laughing or feigning concern and sympathy for my injuries while I was into my full blown tirade.
I limped off to work. Scraped knees and all.
1 comment:
Too bad you weren't wearing your nightly knee pads.
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