Not my best week

I’ve never been the most graceful person on the best of days…. and I’m downright dangerous on the worst of days…

This past week has, for some reason, been especially difficult for me. Difficult to stay upright. Difficult to avoid being injured. Was it a full moon? I don’t know…..

I started the week out wearing a pair of heels to work. I’ve had them for years, they are not high….but they are skinny. I usually wear flats, but certain pants need a little more, you know?

So I wear them. All is well. I can walk decently.

Then I decide to take the stairs on my way home. One flight. Concrete stairs. As I’m texting.

the stairs.

the stairs.

Yes, I fell. Somehow ended up holding myself up on the railing after an impressive knee scraping and double ankle twisting. Sadly, the left shoe also suffered a scrape that removed the color and I don’t have a marker to match that….

The next day, I’m back at work. I hop up onto a desk to sit for a moment. I do this ALL THE TIME. Suddenly, this time, a cabinet came out of nowhere and whacked me in the side of the head. Then acted like it was there the whole time.

This time I had small audience. Embarrassing, but what can I do but laugh, and hope I don’t have a concussion.

That same night.

I am sitting, doing homework with the 13 year old who broke his right arm and needs me to write out his math, longhand. So….I’m not in the best mood, trying to get his math and then social studies questions done….and the little ones need a bath…. thinking of all the things I need to do before I can get to bed that night…..

17 year old comes home from work. “Hey mom, I got your favorite candy!”

I turn my head.

INTO a Twix missile. Launched at my face, and it strikes me square between the eyes.

Really, intensely painful. Why would you throw that at my head??

After I took some deep breaths. Warned everyone to just not talk to me for a moment…. I got up to look at my face. Come back…where is that Twix?

She let the FOUR year old eat it.

Next day. Same 17 year old is doing dishes as we clean up from dinner. In her fun mode. Acts like she’s going to throw a plate at me. With wet, soapy hands.

So…. she threw the plate.

Shatters ALL over the floor in front of me.

Had the presence of mind to beg for mercy before I could react.

This is not everything. But you get the idea.

courtesy of

courtesy of


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