Wednesday, April 30, 2014

I'm bringing clumsy back

My adolescence was so much fun the first time around, I thought I'd give it another go.  That's me trying to pretend like I have any say in what's happening now.  It's not so much a choice, as an involuntary action.

I've had a week folks.  Oh, have I had a week.  A week that's transported me back through time to my eleventh year.  (Although, to be frank, my clumsy has enjoyed several  renaissances throughout my life - often hormonally related.)

Enjoying leftovers.  I'd made schnitzel with mashed potatoes the night before - this was lunch-time the day after.  Delicious schnitzel all coated in gluten-free breadcrumbs and Parmesan cheese.  I'd actually salivated while it was warming in the microwave.  I got too excited.  I ate too fast.  The strength of my jaw was too great.  I took a chunk of flesh out of the left side of my tongue that had me instantly weeping.  I tried to let out a few colourful expletives, but they were garbled by  my poorly functioning tongue.

"MU...ER  ...U...ER!!  ...EEET ER..FL.... EEEEEE...US!!!"

"What did you do?" David and Rissa chorus.


I showed Rissa.  She jumped back a step.  "Uh... Mummy?  That's not good."

"IT OT?  Y?  UH OES IT OO IKE?"  I went to the mirror.  I had flaps of skin hanging off the side of my tongue.   (3 days later the already-forming scar tissue is a sight, let me tell you.)

Putting cheques in the safe at work.  This is usually a ZIP-BOOM task.  Somehow between the ZIP and the BOOM I managed to slam the ring finger of my right hand in the door.  I danced the pain dance for a good thirty seconds before even looking at it.  Just the tip.  Thank God it was just the tip. (Insert your own joke here.)

Same day.  I'm leaving work - actually on time for once.  So proud of myself - I was going to get stuff done upon my return home.  I reached for my jean jacket, did a matador's cape flourish, throwing my hands up to catch the arms holes and ... put my neck out.

Unloading the dishwasher this morning, I attempted to cradle the cutlery tray in my arm when I stabbed myself in the boob with a paring knife.  Blood loss is thankfully minimal.

I thought these things came in threes.  Does that mean that I have two more in this grouping, or that I'm just an over achiever from the first grouping?

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