Yesterday I started the day by falling down the stairs. Our friend that we’re living with this summer had placed a baby gate across the bottom of the stairs to keep the dog from going up during the day. I SAW the baby gate. My brain REGISTERED the presence of the baby gate. And then, for some reason, my brain said JUMP OVER IT. For the love of all that’s holy. I ended up going over the gate, and then executing a five point landing (both elbows, both knees and my left hip) before the fireplace at the bottom of the stairs broke my fall. And because I apparently wasn’t to retain a single shred of dignity on this blessed day, I took the baby gate with me, with my right leg hooked around it so that it was jammed into the inside of my other leg.
My Sweet Hubby was speechless.
I am a menace to myself. My headstone is going to read “I SWEAR I have NO IDEA what happened. She was just trying to walk across the yard and…”
I’m hoping that when I get my glorified body in heaven it includes depth perception. And common sense. Because REALLY?