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Monday, November 4, 2013

I Fell Down the Stairs

No, really.

I fell down the stairs at Sissy's house.

Judging by the reaction of her friend's daughter and the multiple bruises on my backside, it wasn't a graceful fall.

I don't really know how it happened. One minute I was walking down the stairs, the next: my life was flashing before my eyes. 

Maybe not quite that dramatic, but it did seem like the world went into slow motion and the bottom of the staircase was a long ride down.

I don't really know why I told you that story.

I'd like to tell you it's because I wanted to tell you that no one is perfect.

Or that we have to laugh at ourselves.

But really, I just wanted to tell you that I fell down the stairs and I survived to tell the story.


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