Monday night I was attempting to clean our laundry room. It's in the basement of our 80 year old house and has a 2 foot deep cement shelf about 4 feet up the wall. I was gracefully attempting to climb down off the shelf and my stupid wet, slippery crocs skidded on the top of the slippery, wet step stool and sent me hurtling through space.
I prevented my early death by strategically placing my rear on the sharp corner of the dryer.
And now am seriously considering 3 very scary possibilities:
1) no one may ever read my blog again since I admitted that I own and wear a pair of crocs
2) I may be inclined to tell the story about how instead of being killed by a dryer 5 years ago I managed only to pee my pants in front of my super cute boyfriend
3) a picture of my very purple bruised butt cheek may find its way to the internet...