Queen of Pain

As a rule, I am a klutz. Ask anyone who has even dined with me and they will tell you that I end up wearing half of my meal home. Pregnancy only serves to intensify this, er, condition. If you are an old timer here at the Cheese Party, you might remember how I fell down an entire flight of stairs while I was pregnant with Sam, landing myself in the finest emergency room Virginia Beach has to offer.

Last weekend, while in Pittsburgh, we visited the home of our friends Jim and Stacy. They were hosting a small gathering which included another couple we know and also the Wood Family. The babies were upstairs sleeping, so Jim placed a baby gate across the bottom of the stairs to keep their dogs from disturbing the youngins. I must have gone upstairs to pee three or four times, so I was well aware of the gate. During my final descent of the stairs, naturally I tripped and landed on my face, scaring the hell out of everyone.

We've been having some tremendous weather down here in the ATL, so when SOB got home from work last night, we decided to take Sam to the playground. It's just a short walk from our house through a quaint little neighborhood. Daddy pushed the stroller as I walked along side. We were maybe half a block away, and we could see how busy it was. As I was gazing at all of the kids playing, I stepped funny in a crack on the sidewalk and did one of those tumbles you only see in movies. I kind of did a somersault, and then my legs ended straight up in the air. A woman ran out of her house to see if I was ok, and I was laughing hysterically. She thought I was crying, of course, and wanted to call a doctor. I was fine, but I did receive a scrapped knee for my efforts.
Kiss and make it better?