?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Clumsy is my middle name

As I skidded across the floor at work on a patch of spilt milk, I started to wonder whether maybe I have something wrong with me.   I am clumsy.  I know that I am.  I am always walking into walls, or the corner of tables, or door frames, I step on upturned plugs, I drop things down myself, I chop lumps out of myself regularly, with my own fingernails… In short I am an accident waiting to happen.

I obviously have no co-ordination, and my gross motor skills leave much to be desired.  And I wondered whether it gets worse as I get older? But then I thought about some of the mishaps that I’ve had over the years and I realised that no, I am just accident prone and always have been.  It’s a miracle I haven’t killed myself or broken anything over the years….

Some extracts from my catalogue of disasters:

When I was about 18 months old I pulled a teapot full of scalding water down on top of myself.  My poor parents were frantic.  I was simply trying to wear the tea cosy as a hat.  Fortunately although my body and foot was blistered quite badly I wasn’t permanently scarred.

As a small toddler I thought it would be a good idea to sharpen my index finger in a desk mounted pencil sharpener.  It wasn’t.  It hurt.  A LOT.

When I was 4 or 5 I was running up and down the shingle strip on my grandparents drive way.  All of sudden the ground collapsed under me and I fell down a large hole.  Cue screaming bloody kneed child.

Also, when I was a similar age, I was playing in the garden, running in and out of the lawn sprinkler.   Someone told me that I had to stop and I had a complete toddler tantrum, and kicked the sprinkler with my foot in temper.  Unfortunately I kicked the corner of it with the top of my foot and gouged out a lump of flesh!  I remember this vividly.  Thinking ‘ouch that hurt’ but being so annoyed that I wasn’t going to let anyone know…. Until I looked down and saw the blood spurting and the bit of my foot still stuck to the sprinkler!  After that I pretty much just screamed… I still have a scar for that.

Jump on a few years.  I had a pair of roller skates for my birthday and was practising on them in the conservatory of my parent’s house.  Obviously very health & safety conscious.  Of course, I fell over.   Managed to whack my wrist on the corner of a stool and fractured my wrist.  Because it didn’t swell up immediately my mother told me it was ok and I just had to get on with it.  When it eventually started swelling and going black a few days later, the doctor told her it was fractured but too late to put a cast on!  I’ve never let her forget that to this day  Wicked mother.

So now we are into my teenage years.  Not much happened here apart from tragic hair and bad taste in clothes.   Adulthood and the accidents continue, changing to a pattern of falling over…

There was the time I fell over, in a multi-story car park on a busy Saturday.  I had just stepped out of the car, foot went down a gutter and over I went.  Ripped a huge hole in my jeans, huge gash on me knee.  Poor little sis had to pick the stones and dirt out of the cut because I was too pathetic to do it.  I then had to go for a hair cut with a bleeding, throbbing knee, and bloody jeans with a hole in.  Nice.

I went to Sorrento, Italy with my sister and friend.  Beautiful place.  Amazing country.
We were on an excursion to Pompeii and Mount Vesuvius…. I struggled all the way to the top of that damn volcano;  and it was HIGH.  I thought I was going to die.  And at the top it was foggy and you couldn’t see anything.  My friends ran off and left me to walk down alone….. my legs being so wobbly after the climb, went out from under me and I went rolling down the side of Mount Vesuvius, cutting my knee open (again) and landing at the feet of a group of Germans!   They helped pick me up, dusted me down and left me to hobble the rest of the way with blood pouring down my leg!  And did I get any sympathy?  No.  They just laughed at me.

Another holiday.  Another accident.  This time in the cold.  We went to Austria for Christmas, thinking it would be very festive and Christmassy and lovely.   In fact, the Austrians don’t really celebrate Christmas the way we do.  Everything was closed.  It was FREEZING and the food was awful.  ANYway.  We decided that we would go a midnight mass at the village church which was a good 20 min walk from our hotel.    Also, I am not a religious person.  I don’t go to church of any denomination, other than for weddings and funerals so quite why I thought this would be a good idea I don’t know.  What we hadn’t allowed for was that the mass was (a) in Latin and that (b) the entire village would be present. 

We arrived late to find the church packed to the rafters.  There were no seats and we ended up standing at the very back in the vestibule by the doors.  It was cold, very busy and extremely serious.  The mass started (in Latin).  This immediately gave us the giggles…. this was made even worse when the entire procession of the priest, choir boys and everyone else gathered in the vestibule with us, the heathen foreigners.  They were swinging their incense carrier and the smoke was quite thick.  I started choking.  My friends started laughing.  I turned around to avoid the smoke, knocked a huge pile of leaflets on the floor, which landed with a deafening crash…. The entire congregation turned around to glare at us! 

That set us off laughing even more, and we were struggling to stifle it…. In the end I had to leave.  I burst out through the church doors, which of course banged SO loudly, again making everyone turned around, and dashed outside, my laughter bursting out as the door slammed shut.

This in itself was bad.  Then came the best bit.  I’m sure God struck me down.  I came crashing out of the church, tripped down the church steps, went sprawling across the road, twisted my ankle and landed in an icy puddle.  By this time I was hysterical with laughter and my friends were the same.  The entire church must have heard us.  We knew we needed to leave, quickly, before they came after us with pitchforks and burning torches.    Of course, when I tried to stand I couldn’t.  My ankle was completely mangled and I was in agony.  I somehow managed to hobble back to the hotel, with my friends holding me up, but it took ages.  We were blue and verging on hyperthermia by the time we got there.   

I spent the rest of the holiday with a bright purple ankle, in a make-shift bandage, using a chair as a walking aid!  Getting up that damned mountain the next day was a challenge let me tell you.  Curiously, I haven’t been back to Austria since.

I have also tripped over an acorn, in front of lots of people, cutting both knees, slipped on the non-slip surface of a ramp in our car park at work and nearly did the splits when I skidded on a pile of wet leaves whilst walking to the bus stop.

Then there was the occasion I was sharing a bed with my sister (and this was only a few years ago).  I was trying so hard to keep to my side,  that I turned over a bit too violently and actually fell OUT of bed. Even though I was wrapped up in the quilt I still landed with a very loud thump, got a carpet burn on my elbow and a huge bruise on my leg.  The worst part was that she had ear plugs in and didn’t even hear me land!

And let us not forget my spectacular tumble down the stairs last Christmas where I sprained my ankle and couldn’t move for a week. 

Truly, it’s a miracle that I am still in one piece and I sometimes wonder whether I should be allowed out on unsupervised.  Is anyone else as clumsy as me or am I just special?  Answers on a postcard…….

Comments

( 10 comments — Leave a comment )
mostly_irish
Nov. 6th, 2008 07:13 pm (UTC)
"...and I went rolling down the side of Mount Vesuvius"

Quite possibly the funniest thing I've heard. Ever.

Don't feel bad, though. I am a fellow Clumsy Chick. Esposo is forever gasping, "Where did you get THAT bruise?" and the saddest part is I can never remember.
darkangel_uk
Nov. 6th, 2008 11:18 pm (UTC)
It was quite impressive. The Germans were very concerned. I had a great scab for weeks....
fmd
Nov. 6th, 2008 07:59 pm (UTC)
You forgot to mention the time you "fell out of the house".
mostly_irish
Nov. 6th, 2008 08:00 pm (UTC)
That reminds me...has gallo_nero ever told you about the time he fell out a moving golf cart ... that HE was driving? :-D
darkangel_uk
Nov. 6th, 2008 11:17 pm (UTC)
LOL no he failed to mention that little snippet. But thanks! I shall bring it up soon...
darkangel_uk
Nov. 6th, 2008 11:16 pm (UTC)
Oh! I forgot that one. Well remembered.
whitehousemom
Nov. 7th, 2008 04:18 am (UTC)
Oh this is good. Good stuff. Also it makes me want to do a injury post of my very own. I have some doozies, although I never feel down a volcano so you win.
darkangel_uk
Nov. 7th, 2008 07:35 am (UTC)
It's the like scene in Jaws where they are all comparing scars :-)
avegallino
Nov. 7th, 2008 01:44 pm (UTC)

Oh dear.
"...rolling down the side of Mount Vesuvius" the image of that was hilarious! it was like a Pixar movie LOL (sorry!).

I'm a natural climber. I love to climb. I sometimes remember things I've done and I'm surprised that I'd never broken a bone or even had fallen badly. I think I'm half mountain goat ;-)
darkangel_uk
Nov. 8th, 2008 08:57 pm (UTC)
Half mountain-goat... LMAO!

Baaaaaaaa :-)

( 10 comments — Leave a comment )