Wednesday, April 25, 2012


This morning Justin and I thought there was a deranged bird chirping close to the house.  It was so annoying, it woke us up before the alarm.  I hate when that happens.  Needless to say, upon further investigation it was not a bird but one of our fire alarms begging for new batteries.  So I set out to change them, which required some form of step stool.  Since my handy-dandy step stool is always missing from the hall cabinet (eh-hem, Justin) I decided to use one of the kitchen stools from the breakfast bar.  Well, this was not a good idea. 

First of all, who the hell invented these things anyway?  A 9-volt battery, really??  At least the Carbon Monoxide detector uses AAs like the rest of the free world.  Secondly, it was early and I was less than alert.  This combination alone led to my demise.  So this is how it went down:  I began to climb up, bracing myself on the door frame.  In struggling with the 9-volt battery factor, the kitchen bar stool began to wobble.  Apparently the linoleum was too clean (yes, too clean, I'm telling the story) and allowed for the stool to slip out from under me.  I did not fall to my bottom, however whatever the maneuver was that I did it most certainly was not graceful.  It was "bull in a china shop" graceful is what it was.  It resulted in the stool leg pinning itself behind my left knee and my right foot/ankle decided the top portion of my foot should scrape along some portion of the stool and be stood upon.  Amazingly, nothing is broken.  However, I will be sporting a hell of a bruise in both locations for the next few weeks.  Just call me Grace.

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