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Grace is not my middle name.

I’m not socially awkward or anything like that it’s just that sometimes I fall.

And, sometimes I hurt myself.

I once thought I had what I called ‘the curse of the 4th of July’ because I hurt myself for a few years in a row on or near 4th of July. Let’s review.

Exhibit 1:

I was running down a hill {in a skirt} in tennis shoes because I was excited about watching fireworks, when BAM! I tripped and did a face plant into the concrete. Mainly I scrapped my knees up pretty bad and blood was running down my shins pooling in my white socks. I went and got a beer hoping to numb the pain and bruised pride. I also got a cup of ice and about 50 thin napkins to clean myself up.

Exhibit 2:

My boyfriend and I went to a drive-in movie, it could have been Armageddon it was a long time ago. We had snacks, blankets and pillows in the back. I just had to get in. I’m short, so the leap into the back of a truck is not an easy one. This time I ‘missed’ the truck and jammed my knee into the corner of the tail gate. I still have a ‘V’ scar in the top of my knee as a reminder.

Exhibit 3:

Having just attended a wedding my friends and I were in a partying mood. We decided to climb a wall to get to our cars so we could head over to Denny’s {that was our spot}. Again I was wearing a dress, but this time I fell a very short distance. There were pipes sticking out of the wall which could be used as steps, but I slipped and landed on my right foot. It hurt a little, but I thought no biggie. A few days later it hurt so bad I could hardly walk. I went to the Dr. and found out I tore some ligaments and ripped my muscle. Ouch!

I have more, but I think you get the picture.

A blogger recently asked her readers to share a story about how über cool we all are, I shared my ripped pants. Click on over if you want to read another story of my clumsiness {it’s in the comments}.

I have been 4th of July accident free for many years now. And now it’s August. I thought I was free and clear for at least another year. How wrong I was.

A few days ago I {ceremoniously} fell out of the shower. Basically I lost my balance and landed on my knees in the shower, my torso on the tub edge, and one hand on the toilet {luckily the lid was down}. It sucks because the older you get the more it hurts when you fall. I did not break anything, and there was no blood {thank you sbj}. The shower curtain flew out of the tub so it didn’t even get ripped. I stood up about two seconds later and was on the verge of tears, and thinking how lucky I am that I didn’t really hurt myself. Then I looked down at my chest and saw it was covered in soap scum from the shower curtain.

My disgust overrode the pain, and I thought, “Oh Em Gee this is so gross! Get it off”!

I have some tender ribs and a sore neck {feels like I have whiplash}, but I can breathe just fine, another good sign of nothing broken {aside from my pride and accident free streak}.

Scott says we might need a few more of those stick on butterflies we have in the tub.

Probably a good idea.

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