That's what we used to say whenever someone did something particularly clumsy, especially if it resulted in injury. Or, we would say something along the lines of, "Nice landing, Grace," if the clumsy person fell. Let's just say I'm not the most graceful creature on earth, and here is photographic evidence:
It's kind of a lame story (according to Wilson, tonight's closing manager at the Hellhole, who said I should change it to something more exciting.) As I was getting ready to go to work, I tripped over one of the several baby gates we have in the house to keep the animals contained to whatever rooms they're supposed to be in. I trip over these gates all the time; that's nothing new. However, I caught my pinkie toe just right on this one (I was wearing socks but no shoes.) It hurt so bad, I had to sit down, and then I took my sock off and saw that the toe was cocked way out to the side. THAT'S when I started to cry! I think I freaked out a little--I thought it was broken, and I had never broken a bone before, and I was thinking about that damn marathon coming up in two weeks, and the one after it in October. So my mom helped me tape it up, I called work and told Wilson I'd be a little late, I washed my face, put on a slipper, and went to work.
Just thought I'd share with all of you before I go ice it and then tape it back up ;) I don't think it's broken as I can still move it and bend it like normal. It just hurts like a bitch when I do it. So I'll give it a few days rest and see what happens. Hopefully Tupelo is still in the cards for me.
So that was my excitement for the day...