I want to fall UP the stairs
So I’m compelled to pass along my childhood memory of falling UP the stairs. My sister was the high achiever in that department as we grew up. It was especially prevalant as her legs grew longer and her body had not yet caught up to them and she would misjudge the steps and trip over the next one up and fall forward as a result. She never fell down the stairs, always up them.
I only relate this because in the last couple of months I have fallen DOWN the stairs twice, both with bruising results. The first time I landed on my tailbone, but was more or less buffered by a handrail that we had installed some years ago when our studio was in the lower floor of our home. Had it not been there, I may have bruised more than my tailbone and ego.
This morning, I fell down the stairs again. This time I wasn’t holding the handrail and fell at an angle that threw me onto my left shoulder, which jolted my head just far enough toward the steps that I cracked my left eye socket on the stair. I guess carpeting made enough of a difference in the fall that my eyeball wasn’t damaged.
But now I have quite a shiner. Quite. Diana said I could blame it on her, because most people who see it are going to believe that she slugged me anyway. 🙂
I also got quite a scraping on the left side of the outer portion of my upper leg… owie.
I think I’ll call my sister tonight and see if she has any tips on falling UP the stairs – I think I would be able to handle that better than this falling down I’ve been doing.