Karma is a Clumsy Bee-yotch

A few days ago, Pineapple came home from daycare school with a busted lip. Apparently she was playing on the plastic alligator seesaw and took a header into the tail.

The next morning, she woke up with a weensy shiner under her right eye – I suspect her farm magnet toy on the refrigerator for that little doozy – and she also had little cuts on her fingers that she received when playing in her bobby drawer (her drawer in the kitchen filled with Tupperware and plastic cups) and inevitably shutting in her little fingers.

Needless to say she was a wreck.

So when I arrived at daycare school that afternoon, I wasn’t exactly keeling over with shock when I was informed that she was now wearing a sparkly green bandaid on her forehead because she got a tiny cut while diving for the sign-out clip board.

The caregiver was so nice – listening while I explained that DH is just SO uncoordinated and has absolutely zero rhythm – I mean, that guy INVENTED the white guy dance. He owns that thing – we get royalties (I so wish) – and that given out much Pineapple looks like him, surely he is to blame. She reassured me that this is a stage fraught with bumps, bruises and little owies as Pineapple struggles to master the difficult skill called walking. I lamented the fact that unfortunately, she didn’t inherit my natural grace and coordination. *sigh* 

With that, I made my way over to the stairs leading down to the big play room where Pineapple was located….

and FELL. DOWN. THE. STAIRS.

I slipped on the second step and SLID at mach 3 down the remaining eleven. On my ass. Using my left elbow as a prop. Bonking my hip, back and head the whole way down. Only to land in a heap on the second to last step in front of all the tiny faces of Pineapple’s friends as they grasped the bars of the long baby gate and stared at me with Japanese-anime-sized-dinner-plate eyes.

To my credit, I didn’t cuss once. (GO ME!)

I merely sat up. Gathered myself and checked for any broken bones. I looked at my swiftly-turning-blue elbow and massaged my tender right hip/buttock area and made a valiant attempt not to moan out loud…even though I was doing quite a bit of internal groaning.

Assuring all the wee ones (and the caregivers who were looking on and, I’m certain, contemplating if I had a case) that I was just fine and only suffering from a few dings and a well-dented ego, I hobbled over to Pineapple, painfully scooped her up and made my way to the door.

For the last several days, I’ve been in pain. My left ankle is slightly twisted, my back is SO SORE it hurts to sit, my right hip bone feels like I dislocated it, my head hurts, and my left elbow is gradually turning green. And 2 thoughts continuously swirl around in my brain each time I step wrong or stretch or rest my elbow on something: 1) Thank the LORD I am not yet so old that a fall down the stairs at daycare school is completely debilitating, and 2) Karma is a clumsy bee-yotch because if I hadn’t been saying all that stuff about DH and poor Pineapple lacking my inherent grace, this probably wouldn’t have happened.

Thank you for your impromptu lessen in humility, Karma. Now, back off. Kisses! XOXO

Oh – and if anyone has any recommendations for muscle ointments (or ego ointments *sigh*) I’m open to suggestions!

10 thoughts on “Karma is a Clumsy Bee-yotch

  1. In my football days, the players would use Bengay to soothe sore muscles and joints. The fun thing was to convince the JV players that they should apply Bengay to their sore groin muscles. It wouldn’t take long for the Bengay to transfer to other body parts – and soon you’d have a freshman or two screaming in pain and running around the locker room. Good times.

    I hope you feel better soon.

    • Believe me, DH wishes he had it on video, I’m sure. I’ve seriously dinged him for his ‘white guy dance’ so many times…*sigh* I swear, I still can’t believe it! And my elbow is GREEN – and LUMPY. *blech*

  2. Lil Foots Mommy says:

    Awwww…I’m really glad you weren’t carrying Pineapple at the time you fell down the stairs. For some reason when my daughter was a baby I always feared walking down our flight of stairs for fear that I would trip and fall and we’d wind up in a twisted heap of mess at the bottom of the stairs. It never happened but I always feared that it would. I’m glad you’re alright.

    • Thank you! It ws scary – and I’m fine…but alas, apparently it is a more common theme for me than I realized…I feel down the stairs with Pineapple once when she was a baby…and so did DH. Thank HEAVEN we both merely slid on our hineys while cradling her and she was not harmed. She was sleeping when I did and she didn’t even wake up…but DH slipped one day and I was downstairs…I heard this loud thump, rumble then Pineapple screamed..I had a moment where I couldn’t walk out of the room toward the stairs for fear of what I would find. What I found was DH totally freaked out and hurt while Pineapple was unscathed but startled. Seriously…we need a single story home. ; )

  3. LOL! I mean — I’m sorry. It sounds like you’re really hurting. But I can’t believe you had that conversation and then promptly slid down the stairs! Hope you’ve found an ointment that helps. Those are some serious injuries!

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