45 Seconds

I have a confession to make. I fall. I fall a lot. As if that weren't inconvenient enough, I never fall while fully clothed. And I never JUST fall. It usually takes me about 45 seconds to hit the ground. Here are a couple of stories. As always, they're 100% true, and not all that flattering to me. Hope they're enjoyable.

Several months ago, my husband DJ left very early for work. He locked the front door behind him when he left. I got up and got in the bathtub. About five minutes into my bath, I hear DJ knocking on the front door. He had left his keys in the car (so he could leave the car running). So, to keep him from waking up the kids (if you've never met him, he's about as quiet as a Peterbilt)-I grab a towel and run to the front door. We have granite in our entry way. Granite is oh so very damn slick when it's wet. The granite slab in front of our door is approximately 4 feet by 4 feet. I'm 5 feet 4 inches. It took a full 45 seconds to slide from where the granite meets the carpet to the front door. I know my butt hit the ground nearly immediately, but my momentum slammed me wet naked-assed first into our front door (again, 45 seconds later). When I finally stopped, I was facing opposite the direction I had started. Was now horizontal as opposed to the much preferable vertical. And had lost not only my towel but most of my dignity along the way. To add insult to not yet detected injury, my husband yelled through the front door, "What the hell are you doing?" I can only imagine how it sounded from his side of the door, but for crying out loud. It was 5:45 am. What do you mean 'what the hell am I doing?'. I mean, it's all his fault for going to work so damn early anyway....

Our bedroom was once a garage. The garage morphed into a formal, sunken living room. The formal, sunken living room has become our master bedroom. From our office, the step down into the bedroom is about 8" high. About 5:45 this morning (should I sleep later or get up earlier?...hmm) I get up, put on my fuzzy pink bathrobe (I like it cuz it makes me look old) and had to the bathroom. I head back to the bedroom to start my day when all of a sudden, the 8" drop off has moved back about a foot. It's a hell of a lot closer than it used to be, I'll say that much. So, I step off it ever so gracefully landing on my left big toe and laying my ankle completely over to one side. Somehow, I managed a pirouette with a half gainer twist and straddled the open wire door to the dog kennel (which is conveniently crotch high on my 5 feet 4 damn inches). So now my left foot is swollen and achy and I have a big scrape about three inches south of due north if ya know what I mean. Geez, I can't wait to hit 60 when I'll break a hip doing all this crap.