Klutz

I am not a klutz in the way that some people are.

I don't really trip over my own feet on a regular basis or walk into walls as I am turning to leave a room, but it seems about once a year I do something profoundly klutzy that overshadows the nonklutziness of the rest of the year.

When I was in 6th grade I rode my bike into a parked car.  I broke my arm and slammed my mouth so hard into the side of the car that my lip stuck to 2 of the brackets on my braces.  After hours of  wiggling my mouth, I was able to pry my lip from the brackets.
My top lip was so swollen, the next day at school people hardly noticed the cast on my arm and instead were focused on my fat lip.

In 9th grade I went to a new school in a new town where I knew no one.  During gym one day, I ran head first into the bleachers.  I came to with the whole class standing over me.

My first real job out of college was for an elected official.  On a clear blue Tuesday morning I was walking to my office from my car and fell.  My hands were full, so I smashed my entire body, including my face, onto the asphalt parking lot.  A stranger helped me gather my lunch that had been flung from the bag that once contained it.  I staggered back to my car and, holding a Diet Coke can on my head, drove the 30 miles home. My roommate was still home because it was still pretty early in the day.  When she saw me she started crying because she thought I was mugged. 
I worked with a lot of cops and they thought I had actually been beat up.  They told me that if Josh was hitting me and I needed help I just needed to let them know.  (Those who know Josh find this very funny.  Of the two of us, I am probably more scrappy than him, despite the fact that he plays rugby.)

Which brings me to the events of last night.  Parker is on the tail end of the cold I was fighting last week.  Last night he was having a coughing fit and calling for me. 

The sucker that I am, I shuffled into his room and laid down with him for a few minutes. 

His bed is about, oh I don't know, how long are beds? Six feet long.  If that is true, then his bed rail is about five long, leaving a foot long gap at the bottom of his bed for general comings and goings.  We also have a foot stool on the floor at the bottom of the opening to optimize the safety and accesibility.  The bed itself is also pushed right up against the wall.  The only way in and out is through the opening.

Even with all of these things in place, I managed to fall out of his bed.  I wish I could say the room was pitch black.  I wish I could say my hair was on fire and I was distracted in my efforts to leave the room safely. 
None of these excuses apply. 

I just fell right out. 

I am now a 30 year old pregnant woman with rug burn on my right knee and left elbow and a bruise on my hip.

Parker did not flinch a bit.  Josh came bounding into the room.  I laid on the floor like a dead bug.
This is my second minor fall during this pregnancy.  I sure hope Peyton comes with a helmet.