Tuesday, January 24, 2012

I Should have Come With A Warning Label

I am a menace.  To myself, that is.  The rest of the planet is safe....well, unless you happen to be walking behind me, close enough to catch a flailing arm as I attempt a hack-kneed swan dive in the middle of the sidewalk, complete with a set of shrieking howls resembling those of mating alley cats.  And dear God help you if you are in front of me when I'm attempting to negotiate the spinny door at the hospital or board the escalator in the mall. (stupid things should have harnesses) There will be causalities.  Why, do you ask, do I provide such entertainment on a regular basis for the throngs that gather?

Oh baby, I was born this way.

While reaching for the salad dressing the other night, I was stopped by my husband's: "Oh my WORD honey, what did you DO to your hand?!?"  I'm totally blank.  "Hmmm?" I ask.  "Look at your hand!" he points to the fingers clutching the blue cheese like I'm about to be robbed.  Upon closer inspection, I began to count....two burns, a slice across my ring finger, my first knuckle was missing, and there is an inch and a half gash down the center of my hand.  Admittedly, it was a hot mess.  "This is the new sexy." I told him.

I remember losing the knuckle while adjusting my stationary bike. (imagine my husband laughing out loud as I'm attempting to explain this. "You got hurt riding a stationary bike?!")  The gash was acquired while cleaning under the microwave which had a previously unknown broken plastic thingy that removed my flesh like Satan's melon baller--of course I irritate it every time I get my phone out of my pocket or put gloves on, so I've jacked it up even more.  The rest? 

Not. A. Clue.

It's been like this for--ever.  Today is my birthday and I have been a poster child for band aides and neosporin for so long I should demand shares in the company! (right now my left knee is a stunning rainbow of color as I dropped the largest drawer in the guest room dresser two days ago and caught it with my leg)  I think I've developed some kind of pain nerve memory block.  Honestly, you could hold a gun to my head and demand to know how I bruised the entire back of my arm last week and I would have to die.  I have NO recollection whatsoever!  I fall UPstairs.  I trip over carpets like a drunk ballerina with a death wish.  I now have an escort that seems to follow me around Home Depot, I think they were worried there would be lawsuits.   

Years ago I went to visit one of my best friends in Florida.  It was to be a romp of a weekend; fly down on Friday, back on Sunday.  I left a chipper, smiling girl with a bounce in her step.  48 hours later I returned with the skin missing from half my face (scraped it along the bottom of a pool), limping (pulled my hamstring in a wild game of cosmic bowling), and gasping like an emphysema commercial as I had caught some plague while guzzling the apartment complex pool water.  I had to get shots.  Missed a week of work to recover from that "two day girl get-a-way."

I couldn't watch The Hangover.  It was entirely too real.

I think we should have punch cards for the doctor's office...."nine visits and the tenth one is FREE!" 

I own enough ace bandages to mummify Paula Deen.

Scrapes are sexy.


Somebody's Nana said...

I have so missed your writing! (and we must be "accidental" twins)

Stuff and Nonsense said...

i vaguely recall
the swimming pool incident
but had no idea
of your general penchant
for self-inflicted pain

i do hope
you're well insured



Anonymous said...

It was also a part of your childhood, we called it 'cute". It was a gift, but I will not say from who it came. Lol. Parent.

momto8 said...

happy birthday!
You are the new sexy!

the worstest mommy said...

You sound like me!

Chantel said...

Nana--"accidental twins"--HAH! love that!

Alison--thank goodness, yes!

Dad--oh, how well I remember.

Momto8--just your name almost overwhelms me! lol But thanks!

Worstest mommy--lol, it's good to have company!

Shrinky said...

Oh Sweetie, like the absent professor, how can you be held accountable for unknowingly walking into these frequent disasters? All your brain capacity is simply focused on higher things, yeah?

Mary: said...

Just read your comments here - that's it, Shrinky!

Chantel said...

Shrinky and Mary--it's official, I adore you both! xox

le Chef said...

Hon, NOBODY has enough bandages for her, but I think duct tape would be a good start.

We always want the other extreme. I wanted to be an Amazon. I ended up a shrimp with wild monkey skills. I got shamed out of Home Depot for climbing up the shelves. Repeatedly. (In my defense, I'm short, and have you seen how high those shelves go? What's a girl suppose to do? And don't even think of trying those ladder-steps. You'll give the employees a heart attack.) I think an escort would be awesome!

Stationary bikes are deadly. I know how that can go horribly wrong.

Chantel said...

Chef--lol, duct tape rocks. I would have recorded you scaling Mt. Depot and we would have made millions online! (well....it's a nice thought)

I'm now using the bike as a clothes rack. I have more guilt, but less on my dresser!