In Case You Forgot How Clumsy I Am

So I've been sick. Sick! Pity me. Except don't, because it was probably that soy milk that said it was a week over expiration. So MAYBE it was my fault. Be quiet, I don't want to hear it from you anymore.

The point is that my daddoo, he of the surgery and the pain and the fury and he REALLY can't believe I've never read The Grapes of Wrath and is personally offended by it, y'all, he is nothing but a slave to spectacle. Much like his daughter! So he threw this onto Facebook. Yes, my dad's on Facebook. I know, I know, he's wicked awesome, yah, dood. 


Look how buff my daddoo's back is! Damn right. Anyhoodle, I go onto Facebook, copy this image everywhere, and start yelling "MY DAD GOT IN A KNIFE FIGHT! YEAH!!!!!!" The fact that he had titled the picture "You should see the other guy" should explain how my family works.

Not very coherently, is the answer.

So I start yelling about my dad getting shanked, and how cool he is, and how he said it himself, you should see the other guy, and then I go to the store. 

This was the first mistake.

I never should have left the house. I'm not well. I feel like crap, actually, and I'm hella nauseated, and a bit shaky. So let's go DRIVE THE CAR, what a fantastic idea. So I go to Shoprite, a mile under the speed limit the whole time, to fetch some seltzer. Because I am 90 years old.

And as I walk into the Shoprite the following happens. 

Woosh! Goes my foot on the traffic paint.

Blammo! Go my thighs, separating.

WHAMMO! Go my ladybits, hitting the pavement.

SMASH! Go my palms on the ground.

And there I was. Spread eagled on the pavement of the Shoprite parking lot, frantically gathering the contents of my oversized purse as I tried to cover my shame.

Shame? Oh, you want to hear about shame? I was wearing the Pink Crocs Of Shame. Serves me right. Also? No wonder I can't ever get a date.

So that's Saturday. I biff big time on the pavement, my dad gets in a knife fight, and everyone has a good laugh at the Banshee household.

Grand. Juuuuuust grand. But remember, my daddoo? Will totally cut you. Totally.


In Case You Forgot How Clumsy I Am — 1 Comment

  1. You see? More reasons for me to hate Crocs right there. I’m klutzy enough in regular shoes. I don’t need to go smashing my lady bits into parking lots. I like my lady bits.
    Also? Your dad is bad ass.

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