My husband picked himself a mighty fine prize marrying me. Yes sir, I'll bet I'm his pride and joy, seeing how I carry myself with such grace and all. Just after I woke this morning, I descended the front stairs in true Scarlett O'Hara fashion, my delicate hand brushing the bangs from my face. When all of a sudden the next thing you know I'm skiing, the bottoms of my feet and derriere glancing off the edge of each step. I would have been just fine had that delicate hand formerly brushing bangs not latched on to a baluster and stayed there. I narrowly missed dislocating my shoulder.
The cat narrowly missed being flattened like a pancake. The kid never even bothered to wake up even though I know there is no way on God's green earth he didn't hear me. So yeah, hubby picked a real winner with me. Thirty-something years old and I need a life alert necklace.