Splash!

splash!

oops.

I don't know if I've told you about this, but I am scarily clumsy, almost. No joke. I'm always running into the sides of doors as I walk out and stubbing my toes and hitting my hips against counters and spilling cups and dropped glass things... It's rather embarrassing, really. Especially if you scream like a little girl when you hit yourself. Especially.

Well, I'm not as bad as I used to be, I suppose. I think it's mostly because of my therapy. It's made me have to be more aware of myself. And I think it's also as I get older I'm getting better. (Like, "I DON'T WANT TO DROP THIS CUP BECAUSE THIS JUICE IS THE BEST I'VE EVER HAD." OK, not quite, but you understand. ;))

But I still find myself running into things sometime.

That reminds me of a funny story...

My friend and I were doing dishes, and we were talking about something, and it was one of those, "They're going to come and tickle you!" moments, so I started backing up (giggling like a weirdo, mind you...) and... I backed right into the open trash can. (It was one of those pull out ones from underneath the cabinet.) I howled like a dog and started jumping up and down. My friend thought it was pretty much hilarious.

Then I go to therapy like the next day, and they're all like, "Gee, where'd you get that bruise?" And I was thinking, "What? A bruise? What bruise? What're you talking about?" And then I looked down at the trash can-inflicted little scrape, and there was this huge bruise covering it. Lovely.

Yeah, anyway, as I said, I'm pretty clumsy...

But it's getting better. ;)

The Storyteller of Weston County, signing off...