Splat

So in the comments of my day before yesterday post, my beloved mentioned her disappointment with me not blogging of my fall that evening. That comment snowballed a little arousing the curiosity of a couple of other readers... so... sheesh.

I'm a little accident prone, things just happen to me. Usually nothing serious that I can't get over in a couple days or so, but it's pretty common. My family loves this about me. *sigh* I think it's like having their very own built in, pratfalling Chevy Chase.

Tuesday evening just before dark Sally said she wanted to go plant a couple of flowering vines down by the east fence and at this point in the day I was already nice and comfy in my recliner in my reclining garb. My reclining wear that evening was a t-shirt and a favorite pair of lounge pants which happen to be bright blue with Southern Comfort whiskey logos all over 'em. I pulled on a dirty grey hoodie and my work boots, but not bothering to lace 'em up or tie 'em. And off I went across the yard to help Sal plant things.

I was soon to plant something else in the dirt.

After the last thing was planted Sally and I got to "foolin' around" like husbands and wives do. ( :-) ) I started chasing her across the yard in a run that can best be described as what you'd picture Carl the grounds keeper in Caddyshack, crossed up with drunk goose and stymied by unkept shoelaces. I still had the yellow handled shovel in hand as I *Forrest Gump voice* "Ra-an lak the wi-ind blows" after my blushing bride.

I then stepped on my right shoelaces with my left foot, in full boogie, which launched my right boot into the sky in a spiraling arc, landing some feet behind me. My shovel... launched like an athlete's javelin, speared into the yard at an awkward angle, and my nose rooted into the yard like a pig going for a grub worm. Sally was especially entertained by the sound effect, which she kept repeating all the way to the house... over and over.

Sally: *laughing hysterically* I... heard.... BOOOFFFFFF!

Me: Thanks for the concern honey

Sally: BOOOFFFFFF! BOOOFFFFFF! BOOOFFFFFF!

Me: I could have died

Sally: *second or third wave of maniacal laughter* BOOOFFFFFF!

Me: See this shovel honey?

Sally: *wiping tears* *getting a straight face on* BOOOFFFFFF!

Me: Dang it! I got grass stains on my Southern Comfort pants!

Sally: *totally loosing it now and leaning on the car to keep from falling, unable to even say BOOOFFFFF at this point*

Me: *sigh*