My list is far too long. Like the time I stepped off the curb, slipped on the ice, and lay there hoping no one recognized me while I struggled to get back up.
Or the time I fell off the stairs in a funeral home and was only rescued from total humiliation because my giant grandsons caught me.
Or the time I fell up the stairs and bashed in both knees.
Or the time when I was very pregnant with boy #2 and carrying my oldest boy (probably just over a year old) and slipped on the ice. I wrapped one arm around the baby's head and the other around my belly and just sort of plopped on my back. There was nothing graceful about that but the only thing hurt was my pride and my butt.
Oh I could go on . . .
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