Again, I'm not going to repeat my disclaimer...these are more just stories that embarrass the red off the top of my head and puts it on my face with fits of giggles, but still! They go to prove my point that I belong in a room of bubble wrap, so long as the bubbles can't pop.
This accurately displays what I look like when I try to do anything that involves wheels on my feet. So what if they were my mother's women's size 8 skates I was wearing on my children's size 2 feet, on my grandmother's gravel driveway. I've even perfected this pose wearing perfectly fitting women's size 10 in a skating rink. I mean, SERIOUSLY, how does one really expect a gal with legs twice as long as her torso to keep those things balanced, where they're supposed to be!
I enter this next piece into evidence. Not only do I have photographic proof, BUT it was also published photographic proof - straight into the yearbook of my Junior year of high school. ((In all fairness I was running late for YEARBOOK class, missed the warning at the beginning of class about a specific chair being broke, but because of some clowns the teacher wasn't sure which one, so to check each chair before sitting down... Yes, I'm sure my legs had something to do with it - they didn't hit the brake pedal properly, thus resulting in me running a red light, only to rear end someone a few blocks later because I was freaked out over running the red light.)) Oh...and that pic is front and center, taking up almost half the page of one of the 'fun photo pages'...someone stole the original before I could.
Then of course you have to add in the bits that I don't have photographic proof of, but I'm going to tell you some of them anyways....
About a year ago I'm cooking dinner & watching a movie. Okay, I'll admit, dinner consisted of a frozen pizza, but for the sake of embellishing a bit - because I've embellished absolutely nothing so far, honestly -, lets pretend it's a 5-course meal, complete with home baked bread, self-grown garden veggies for the salad & sides, thick juicy steak, from the cow I'd raised myself and then butchered myself just that morning, and it was all finished off with my double layer chocolate butter cake, complete with cherry filling & topped with chocolate covered strawberries.
Anyways, so the bluebirds that sing to me in my kitchen start their little song to alert me that the deer & squirrels have completed the meal preparations & it was time for me to present the plates to my wonderful family.
I stand up from my position on the couch, take the first step forward....
Go to make the second step...
And then it happens.
I've face planted the floor.
The floor was spotless - no seriously, it really was, I'm shocked, I know, but in the floor's defense it was clean. Brian hadn't even taken off his size 246 shoes yet! (ok, he wears a 14, but still! they're like steel bricks when you stub your toe on them) And I'd actually cleaned the house that day! Or at least the living room, but whatever, point is the bare hardwood floor had NOTHING ON IT. Except me.
I landed pinky first and wouldn't you know it the damned thing swells and won't straighten out...or bend, I can't remember which exactly. And it HURTS. Also? I was wearing jeans. My FAVORITE pair of jeans.
I got a lovely 'rug' burn down my leg thanks to my favorite pair of jeans.
I painfully eat dinner with the family, because that's how we roll...we eat dinner, together, as a family. My hand & knee continue to swell & my face hurts.
We finish eating dinner and decide it'll be in my best interest to get checked out, have some x-rays done, let them re-set my poor pinky finger & assess the damage to my knee.
Turns out all I did was SPRAIN my pinky & skin my knee. My hand stayed swollen for a week. It sucked.
And that, my dear, is the reason we have made the conclusion that giraffe legs + Stephi = just bad news, regardless of the platform, or lack thereof.
(Pic of me when I'd dyed my hair black...hence the reason it doesn't look red or blonde here.)
Okay, you're accident prone! We ought to chain you down so you don't fall over, but prolly something will just fall on top of you if we do.
ReplyDeleteLovely pic of you Stephi!
I almost think they need to have lessons on how to operate giraffe legs.
ReplyDeleteAnd thank you. :)