Sorry, but I think you and I need to have a word.
It has to be said that I rely on you to keep me grounded. Ok, you and gravity. And balance. You’re the holy trinity of keeping me upright. And, up until now you’ve done a pretty good job.
I’ll forgive you the time you went from underneath me whilst I carried my 21st birthday cake. It was snowy and slippery as Hell. (Is Hell slippery? Really, I wouldn’t have thought so: surely all that fire and brimstone would have seen to any icy conditions?)
Oh, and there was the time you saw fit to land me on my arse when I got my first pair of rollerskates…just as I had my photo taken. The ONE TIME whoever took the picture managed NOT to cut me out of the frame!
(For the benefit of my bloggy readers I honestly don’t know the location of the actual picture right now, but believe me, it’s etched onto my retinas with humiliation.)
You’d have thought I’d have leant my roller skating lesson in that moment, but obviously not.
But back to my point, minor slip-ups aside (sorry, I couldn’t not do it) you’ve done a pretty good job. I am naturally clumsy, but I don’t actually fall fully arse over tit all that often. Well done.
Except until recently, that is.
Since my flight down the neighbours’ stairs you’ve really not done such a brilliant job. I’m sure I managed to break my middle toe today after you decided that staying vertical whilst unexpectedly traversing a puddle of water in the utility room this morning.
Husband: I partly mopped it up.
Me: What?! Why not completely mop it up, then I’d have ten functioning, pain-free toes?!
Less mop-it, more muppet. Jeez.
So, it wasn’t entirely your fault, but you didn’t handle it well. Although in fairness, right foot, it’s you whose now suffering the most. But honestly, I’d have thought you’d have taken it as a lesson learned.
But just now, in the shower you definitely struggled. No one wants to have anything that may need medical assistance to happen in the shower. It’s when I really want you to be on it when it comes to maintaining the vertical.
I understand that the circumstances were harder than normal. I don’t know what’s in Nivea In-Shower Moisturiser, but if Hell is short on ice then this stuff will sort its grip-resistant needs. It’s not normal to climb in the shower and literally slide. But it was a tension-filled showering experience. I feel my trust in you has been knocked somewhat.
I’d like to be able to have faith in you, heart and sole. Please don’t let me (fall) down. In exchange I’ll paint your nails better and I’ll finally get round to buffing that hard skin off, I promise.