No, that is not make-up, although our waitress yesterday did tell me it was the prettiest black eye she ever saw. Too bad I don’t have that shade of purple for the other eye.
No, I was in such a rush to get back to my poor, loyal...abandoned…readers.
Actually, I was impatient. I know, I know. I’m supposed to have the patience of a saint. Well, not Tuesday.
Hubby was going out of town, and I was bound and determined to spend the first night in the new house with the bed all to myself. And I did, by golly. Except for Miss Ellie. She was one happy little Sheltie, getting to sleep with Mama.
So, we have a Sleep Number bed. Air. No big deal, right? Air isn’t heavy. I got the mattress downstairs and loaded on the truck. I got the plastic foundation downstairs and loaded on the truck. I got the metal bed frame downstairs.
Now the metal bed frame was just a tad heavier than the rest of the bed. But it’s only a few rails hooked together. And why unhook everything just to hook it back up a few minutes later? Except that it disagreed, and as I took a minute to catch my breath at the bottom of the stairs, it chose to disassemble itself right before my very eyes and come crashing down on me. Kind of like MattG’s coffee pot that jumped off the top of the microwave and on to the floor.
I’ve seen things like this happen before, and it’s never a pretty sight. You wouldn’t believe some of the stories I’d hear in the emergency room (I swear, Nurse Flo, it was like the knife had a mind of it’s own and sliced my finger right off). I didn’t, either. I’m a believer now, though. Knives, coffee pots, bed frames. It’s a dangerous world out there, folks. You never know when it’s going to be your turn.
And WHERE was Mr. Abandoned Ambulance Driver in my time of need? Gallivanting around Boston, wasn’t it?
So I had to settle for Hubby, Mr. “I think you better sit down while I stitch up your son’s head because you’re turning green.” I managed to get the bleeding stopped, took Tylenol, and was icing down the ping pong ball sized lump on the side of my head by the time he got home.
But I’m ok. I survived. And MFD and I had the new house to ourselves that night.
Hopefully, the luck o’ the Irish will be on my side for the rest of the ordeal.
2 comments:
Don't you know most accidents happen right at home? Looks like something I'd do. Get better. Look's like hubby smacked ya. Ya right! LOL
That's a beaut of a shiner allright. Shame it's not Halloween, you could go as a victim of Domestic Violence.
No, Really, get it, Domestic Violence, the Bed Frame attacked you!
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