December 23, 2011
But now it's on to bigger and better things. I promised you a glimpse into my very colorful history with Murphy--you know, the anonymous and oh so cherished guy who came up with Murphy's Law--and here, my dear readers, is your first installment.
Today's incident takes place when I was about 9 or 10. I was hanging out in my older sister's room. She is 5 years older than me which meant she was more mature and thereby automatically cool. Being allowed to hang out in her room was a rare and treasured event and there I was in my nightgown, chillin' with my sister.
In her room she had a dresser. Actually I think it would be classified as an armoire. It had 2 drawers on the bottom and 2 doors on top that opened up to reveal cubbies that she stored her clothes in with a little decorative ledge to separate the two. For some reason, I climbed up on the dresser. I can't remember if I was after something on the top or if I was just trying to do a mountain goat impression but I climbed. That decorative moulding ledge provided the perfect support for my (at the time) little feet.
What happened next was something seldom seen outside of cartoons. My foot slipped and I went down, heading straight for a face plant on the floor. Until...the knob on the dresser door got caught on my underwear. I was now suspened 2 1/2 feet off the ground with only the strength of my underoos holding me up. The momentum from the fall kept me moving enough that I was swinging back and forth like a pendulum. My sister did the only thing she could do in a situation like this--she burst out laughing.
Obviously help was not coming from my beloved sister. I started trying to get myself down but I couldn't reach around to get a hold of anything. All I managed to do was increase my swinging momentum. I started laughing, too, even though it was clearly not funny but the laughter just made it that much harder to concentrate. I ended up flailing my arms and legs through the air hoping to just knock myself loose but to no avail. At this point, neither one of us could actually speak through the laughter and tears and my wailing for help. How was I supposed to get down? Did I really want to call for help and explain to my parents how it was I ended up hanging off the furniture by my underwear, bicycling my little limbs for all they were worth?
At the time, it felt like I was trapped there for hours with nothing to comfort me other than the sight of my sister in tears from laughing so hard, but looking back I suppose I may have only hung there like a slab of meat for a few minutes. And in the end, calling for help wasn't necessary. I was saved by the low stress tolerance of cotton. With a loud riiiiippp, the seam of my underwear gave out and I was dumped on the floor, humiliated but generally unharmed.
This is one of those incidents that has lived on in our family lore. It's brought up whenever we get together and have those "Remember when..." conversations. Whether brought on myself or thrust in my lap, I seem to have a great talent for finding myself in...unique situations. At least life is never dull, right?
December 7, 2011
You ever hear the saying "If it wasn't for bad luck you wouldn't have any luck at all"? In my house that's not just a saying, it's a life motto. I've mentioned before that I am a disaster magnet and it's true. I am the very definition of Murphy's Law. If something can go wrong, it will. No question. In fact, I've decided to institute a new feature to my blog. I'm calling it "Flashback Friday". On Fridays, I will post assorted stories from my past that will demonstrate to you my unluckiness and prospensity for attracting problems.
But for now I will just share with you what happened this morning. I somehow managed to NOT turn on my alarm last night so we overslept this morning. Logan's internal alarm clock woke him up at 7 as usual so he was already getting ready for school but the rest of us are apparently lacking that particular gene so we started the morning running around in a frenzy.
I was shadowing the kids, doing my best drill sergeant impression--you'dbettermovefasterthanthatoryouwillgotoschoolwithoutbreakfastIdon'tcare howlatewearenooneleavesthishousewithoutbrushingtheirteethit'sonly33 degreesoutsidesodon'teventhinkofwalkingoutthatdoorwithoutacoat--and we managed to walk out the door 5 minutes before the late bell was supposed to ring. It takes us about 3 minutes to get to school so we could just make it.
Except that it was only 33* outside. That meant the windshield was frozen over. I shoved the kids in the car and grabbed the scraper. It wouldn't do any good to turn on the defrost because, in addition to that pesky leak in my radiator that kept me from having A/C during the 41 straight days of triple digit weather this summer, my heater core has now gone out and I can't use the air. So, no defrost. Scrape the ice like crazy. Make a hole big enough to see through and hop in the van. Grab napkins and wipe the frost off the inside. But, wait. It's not wiping off. What?! It's not frost..it's ICE. That's right. The inside of my windshield was iced over as well. How is that you ask? I chalk it up to the whole bad luck thing but it seems there's actually an explanation for it. With my water leak and no heater core and not being able to turn on the air, somehow I have water leaking into my car. (Yeah, that's right. It's been raining like crazy. I finally have a house that doesn't flood but now Suzy is flooding. Figures.) The water inside the car caused extra moisture to build up on the inside and it froze over. I had to scrape the inside of my car. There were little icy chunks all over my dash when I was done.
I scraped just enough to see and then set off for school. Only it kept fogging over. And I have Bell's Palsy (again--yet another example of my luck) and so my vision is a bit off. I ended up driving (possibly illegally and highly dangerously) to the kids' school with my window down so I could judge where the lines were in the road. I got Bubba and Sassy there in the nick of time. At that point, I did park and take the time to scrape the rest of the ice of both the inside and the outside of Suzy's windshield so I wouldn't kill Howdy and myself on the way to drop him off. The drive home was thankfully uneventful and the weather warmed up enough that I was able to pick them up without having to wear my gloves.
I'm thankful for the little things.