Just call me Ms. Graceful.
It's not unusual for me to have non-descript boo boo's that I can't defend. A bruise here, a cut there. I'm always pushing beyond my boundaries, taking risks (mostly unnecessary) and being overly confident of my physical abilities.
Who knew Christmas decorating could be a combat sport?
Each year following Thanksgiving I begin prepping my house for an annual holiday open house. It's a simple gathering where I invite my friends that make stuff (or sell stuff) to come and display their wares to anyone that wants to come shop. This year will be the 5th year I'm holding the event and I do absolutely love it.
Except the prep. The prep can kiss my ass, quite frankly.
Thanks to my fantastic mother in law who owned a beautifully giant house and decorated to the hilt, I have become the recipient of a zillion yards of greenery, wreaths and the like. I transform our house into a winter wonderland because of her! In addition to hanging all of these garlands, I am simultaneously moving furniture from the first to second floor to make room for my friend's tables of goods.
And this year, Bubba isn't here to help me. Guess who got the job? You got it... the 11 year old. Little guy was so excited.... well, not exactly.
Every movement to take down the fall decorations from on top of my kitchen cabinets made him nervous. He shouted "momma, be careful!" every time I placed my foot on the granite counter. We made it all the way around the kitchen to the last cabinet and I was very confident we were good to go. I'd done this feat a million times, switching between spring/summer and fall/winter decorations ever since we moved here.
As I placed my
foot on the granite, I placed my left hand on the crown molding on top of the cabinet for security. I reached for the last item - a glass bowl filled with wine corks - and twisted just enough to allow my foot to slip. The next 5 seconds were in slow motion... but little guy's words and terror on his face are burned in my memory. He started screaming as I went down, pulling the crown molding in my hand, crashing everything on the counter top in my path. Faster than a bullet from a gun. I'm not even quite sure what I hit but I can say this morning with confidence that it was roughly everything but my head... thank God. I have cuts, bruises and overall I'm in massive muscle pain.... everywhere. Nice.
And I'm not even done decorating yet. And Hubs brought home an 8 foot tree last night.
It's a good thing we have ibuprofen. And Jim Beam.
But somehow, by some grace of God, my Nana's china sat less than 2 feet from my dismount and it was left unscathed.
There is good in everything bad!
Have a fantastic Saturday, friends. Try to stay in one piece!