I fell on my nose yesterday trying to avoid tripping on cats and laptop cables. Seriously. Fell on my nose. Fell. On my nose. Flew like a plane across the floor. Bled like a stuck pig. Dropped my salad. The cat's fine, by the way.
I proceeded to spend the next day spontaneously calling out "I fell on my nose!" This did not gain me the level of sympathy I sought and surely deserved. "Did you break it?" I was asked several times. I was forced to admit that, no, I didn't think I'd broken it, but, I FELL on my NOSE. It hurt. It might even bruise. What if it swelled up and I couldn't breathe? I can't afford for my face to be any rounder than it already is. At this point, most listeners turned away, assured that I was not in immediate danger, and probably wishing I'd fallen on the cat instead.
There are many body parts on which I could have fallen, of course. Most more padded and able to withstand such trauma than my poor little nose. Why didn't I fall on any of those? When I got my beautiful new hardwood floors, they didn't warn me that I could slip, slide, trip, and fall on them. I would like to blame Sasha for getting in the way, but I haven't figured out a way to blame her for the laptop cable lying in wait. Although, come to think of it, the warm laptop keyboard is one of her favorite napping locations.
Where's American's Funniest Home Videos when you need them? I could use $10,000.
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