Clumsy? Um, yeah.

I have never been athletically gifted by any means, but I resisted the title of clumsy until now.  The sheer number of bruises on my body at this moment in time tells the truth.  If I went into a hospital claiming abuse, I'm tellin' ya, they'd believe me. 

This brings me back to my youth.  My parents and my brother all had athletic ability but I apparently just plain missed out on that particular gene.  My brother Ron tried to teach me to catch a football when I was a kid; this resulted in the worst bloody nose I've ever had.  My parents tried and even put me into softball, but I was terrible.  So I understand that I have no abilities here.  When Tim used to give me a hard time, insinuating but never coming right out and saying that I was clumsy.  I would defensively say "ARE YOU CALLING ME CLUMSY??"  He would smirk and say "No, but you hurt yourself more than anyone I've ever known."  So that is the history. 

It started Friday, when I went to leave my desk, of course in a hurry, and I clipped the corner of the fireproof file cabinet.  It was one of those corner hits that you just know is going to leave a mark.  It did.  Nice big round bruise right along side the long skinny bruises from my son's dog Rylie jumping up and catching me with one paw and scratching me down my leg. 

The next encounter was at the Renaissance Festival when we were just opening up.  My brother Ron had put a board that hold the doors shut up on a shelf about oh . . . nose height.  He didn't push it all the way down so the board when right through the walkway to the back.  Yes, you guessed it, walking to the back I hit it straight on to the bridge of my nose.  I do NOT know why I did not see it.  I save the best (or worst actually) for last.  

Last night I went up to bed.  I nearly always read before I go to sleep.  I turned my reading light on and got comfortable and began to read.  Then THE FLY started buzzing around the light.  Just for good measure, it would occasionally come over toward me and bounce off my book or my face.  It was one of those big flies that is like a translucent blue/green color.  I don't know what kind of fly that is, but I don't really want to know.  I used the arm of a shirt I had near me to swat it, but missed it again and again.  (This may go back to the athletic ability thing.)  So now I was pissed.  I decided to go downstairs and get a flyswatter.  I walk about halfway down the stairs and step on a file I put there earlier in the day to bring upstairs.  (Note to self, clean the shit off the stairs).  I started to slide and I'm not quite sure what happened after that but it all involved pain.  I tumbled down the remaining log stairs.  I managed to heavily bruise the back of one leg and jam my toe and bruise the front of my other leg.  

So this morning as I was using my cover-up to make the small bruise around my one eye because of the nose hit, it occurred to me.  Dang, I can no longer deny it, I am clumsy.