Tuesday's Child is Full of Grace
So when I was a kid, I loved the rhyme about what day you were born on. I was born on a Tuesday, and I always thought 'full of grace' was really nice, and I always hoped I would grow into a graceful person. This weekend, finally, destroyed that little self-delusion once and for all
Scene 1: Friday night. Hot as all get out in her apartment, she heads back to the bedroom to charge her cell. She doesn't bother with the light, because really, who needs an incandescent bulb on in a 104 degree room? She turns at the door, heading toward the charger, on the wall at the end of the closet, and Bam!!
"OOOOOOOW!"
She smashes her pasty white leg into the (sharp) corner of their gorgeous teak bed. Damn, blood and everything, highlighted by a nice bruise. A lovely accessory for shorts-weather.
OK, people bump into things in the dark - it's well known. Doesn't mean I'm all that clumsy, right?
Scene 2: Sunday afternoon. Even freaking hotter in her apartment, she heads to the bedroom for shoes, to go to the bookstore and escape the heat. She doesn't bother with the light, because really, who needs and incandescent bulb in a 108 degree room? She turns at the door, heading for the closet, and Bam!
"OW! Ow ow ow ow ooooowwwww!!!!!"
She smashes her eggplant colored bruise into the (sharp) corner of their gorgeous teak bed. Looking down, she realizes that she's bleeding. Assuring her husband that she was still alive, albeit in some pain, she hobbles to the the bathroom and puts her pasty white leg up on the counter (the surface of which, like all surfaces in her apartment, is approximately 100 degrees), wherein she discoveres a miracle of her own making. Rather than simply reopening the old gash, she had managed to give her self a NEW CUT RIGHT ON TOP OF THE OLD FREAKING CUT.
Doubting that even she, the woman who randomly looses her balance and bumps into people when she is concentrating more on talking than walking, could be quite that clumsy, she reexamines the wound. Sure enough, the second cut starts about 1/4 inch to the right of the old, it travels diagonally to the old cut, follows it's length and inch or two, and then tails off to the left. Amazing. On the 360 degree surface of her leg, she managed to nail the exact freaking spot that was already hurt. Breaking out the neosporin, she whimpers quietly as she applies it to the new bruise that has aggravated the old bruise.
"You married one of the clumsiest women in the entire freaking country! Look at this!"
Her husband shakes his head, and continues watching tv - there is nothing he can do for a woman this blunderous. Fade scene.
Scene 1: Friday night. Hot as all get out in her apartment, she heads back to the bedroom to charge her cell. She doesn't bother with the light, because really, who needs an incandescent bulb on in a 104 degree room? She turns at the door, heading toward the charger, on the wall at the end of the closet, and Bam!!
"OOOOOOOW!"
She smashes her pasty white leg into the (sharp) corner of their gorgeous teak bed. Damn, blood and everything, highlighted by a nice bruise. A lovely accessory for shorts-weather.
OK, people bump into things in the dark - it's well known. Doesn't mean I'm all that clumsy, right?
Scene 2: Sunday afternoon. Even freaking hotter in her apartment, she heads to the bedroom for shoes, to go to the bookstore and escape the heat. She doesn't bother with the light, because really, who needs and incandescent bulb in a 108 degree room? She turns at the door, heading for the closet, and Bam!
"OW! Ow ow ow ow ooooowwwww!!!!!"
She smashes her eggplant colored bruise into the (sharp) corner of their gorgeous teak bed. Looking down, she realizes that she's bleeding. Assuring her husband that she was still alive, albeit in some pain, she hobbles to the the bathroom and puts her pasty white leg up on the counter (the surface of which, like all surfaces in her apartment, is approximately 100 degrees), wherein she discoveres a miracle of her own making. Rather than simply reopening the old gash, she had managed to give her self a NEW CUT RIGHT ON TOP OF THE OLD FREAKING CUT.
Doubting that even she, the woman who randomly looses her balance and bumps into people when she is concentrating more on talking than walking, could be quite that clumsy, she reexamines the wound. Sure enough, the second cut starts about 1/4 inch to the right of the old, it travels diagonally to the old cut, follows it's length and inch or two, and then tails off to the left. Amazing. On the 360 degree surface of her leg, she managed to nail the exact freaking spot that was already hurt. Breaking out the neosporin, she whimpers quietly as she applies it to the new bruise that has aggravated the old bruise.
"You married one of the clumsiest women in the entire freaking country! Look at this!"
Her husband shakes his head, and continues watching tv - there is nothing he can do for a woman this blunderous. Fade scene.
posted by a duck at 8:55 AM
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