I blame it on dinosaur feet.
Last night, I decided to do SOMETHING about the scales on my heels. (Just writing those words looks weird, but if any of y’all have ever had the driest of heels, the kind where your skin is so tough and brittle that the little points become razor sharp, you FEEL me. Hopefully, y’all don’t have a CLUE about Dinosaur feet, but if you do, you get it..)
Anyflippinway, last night I thought about putting lotion on my feet and actually did that. I mean, THAT’s a giant step RIGHT there! I also managed to snag a pair of socks, so I wouldn’t get the floor and sheets are greasy from healing heels. I EVEN managed to grab a pair of socks with the little gripper feet on them so I wouldn’t slide around on our hardwood floors.
Ok, that was totally by accident, but it’s a good thing.
This morning, I was looking like an old man in Miami when I slipped on flip flops to go over to Daddy’s, STILL wearing my gripper socks. Yep, they were white to complete the visual.
After we chatted this morning during the #morningyall show, I had to hurry downstairs because Tater was getting in the shower, and I had to help with rinsing that long, straight hair. I had forgotten she was supposed to go with her other grandparents for a short trip this morning to see a new baby cousin born yesterday.
I was in a hurry.
She was hollering for me.
Mac had already SENT ME A TEXT asking when I was coming down.
I might not have been paying attention.
I was holding my ½ empty coffee cup, trying not to spill it going down the steps.
I almost made it all the way down.
Actually, I DID make it all the way down. Just not standing upright.
When I got to the 3rd step from the bottom, my feet just…..I don’t even KNOW what they did, but I know what they DIDN’T do: They didn’t stay on the flippin step. Nope, they came totally OFF the steps, allowing my big ol’ butt to land on not one, not two, but THREE of the steps like a slinky gone bad.
I squealed a little with each bounce, totally unable to squelch my fear, surprise, or pain and that sent Tater AND Mac running to the foyer, where they found me already sitting on the bottom step, my performance over almost before it began.
I checked for blood, bones and bruises, but found none showing. Tater FLIPPED OUT and started screaming, which...I must admit...didn’t help matters. When we assured her I was gonna live quite a bit longer, I assessed my position, moved some body parts to see what hurt and looked around.
There was coffee splattered all over a brand spanking new wood floor, which had not been privy to any coffee protecting stain. My foot hurt but looked as normal as ever. My butt, while obviously a great cushion for the parts inside, hurt like the devil.
I stood up on my own, Tater got a towel and wiped up the coffee, and I continued about the morning.
Slowly. Ever so S.L.O.W.L.Y.
Pretty much everything hurts, and my tailbone, back and foot hurt the most. Bending over at any angle makes me rethink THAT action immediately. Sitting isn’t all that charming either, but then again, standing ain’t a bowl of cherries, either. I guess dropping all of me onto several wooden steps at full force has to really wake up a bone or 12 and they’re slapping my insides because of it, insisting that I don’t do anything so foolish again.
The good news: I didn’t break any bones.
I can still function.
I have a new appreciation for handrails.
I won’t have to carry anything next week.
Tater will be VERY helpful this afternoon.
I didn’t break my coffee cup!!!!
My heels are MUCH softer.
Have a Simply Fabulous Day, y’all...I’m thinking a nap is in my future several times today.