Gravity, as has been noted previously, does not tend to be my friend. There must be something wrong with my gravitational pull or something -- which, come to think of it, could explain all the weight I've gained..... Hmmm..... Anyway.
The day after Thanksgiving dawned, and it was time for Fall to leave the house and Christmas to enter. My husband was being no help at all. Apparently he was still in a food coma from the day before and seemed unable to get out of the comfy chair in his lair. There was no help for it, I had to get down that darned Autumn garland above the front door. Now for 99.999% of the human population this wouldn't pose a problem. The rest of us, however, see just where this is going. I took out one of the tall, swiveling chairs from the dining room and clambered atop it, but as I reached for the garland, the swivel chair did what swiveling chairs do. It swiveled. I fell. I guess I twisted in the air (I bet I would have gotten straight 10's on my style) and landed on the top concrete step on my back. Ouch, I said. The end result has been a whole lot of discomfort, liberal use of Ben Gay (I kept hearing people at the craft show on Saturday remarking how something smelled just like their grandmother), and much time spent with a heating pad on my back. I haven't been to the doctor because all he's going to do is say not to stand on chairs that may swivel, then give me prescriptions for muscle relaxers and pain pills. I have those left from the unfortunate Litter Lifting Incident last spring. Besides, I'm fairly sure I heard him chuckle as I left his office. Harrumph.
Foster floofs and other tales
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