Okay, so that's a really old picture of Missy, from way back before we had babies, when we used to (cringe) let Missy sleep with us. I know! Disgusting! I know. That's an embarrassing story in itself, isn't it? But let me just say that before we had actual babies, I was one of those horrible people who thinks that the dog is their baby, and trust me when I say that Missy had thorough baths once a week at this point in her life. Does that make it any less disgusting? Ah, I didn't think so.
So Missy was barking like crazy when the guests started arriving, so I was a mean dog mommy and I took her to the basement and shut her into the one room down there that actually has a door (it's mostly unfinished). About 2 hours later, I remembered that she was down there and that she probably needed to go outside to do her business, and that she'd certainly calmed down enough by then to sit quietly in "her room" (the mud room) again. So I grabbed her leash and headed down the stairs to get her. I was wearing some wide-leg pants and very pointy-toed shoes, and you can see where this is going, can't you? Certainly. The toe of one shoe caught in the other pant leg, and down I went.
Except, when I fell, luckily my brain reacted quickly enough to say "must NOT fall FORWARD, I have babies and I do not want to DIE!" So I threw my body backward. Lucky indeed, since I started falling at the very top of the stairs. Stairs that end in a bare concrete floor. The throwing of the body worked, and I did not fall forward. Did not land on anything important like my head or my neck (yay!). Instead, I kid you not, I BOUNCED the whole way down the stairs (boo). On my tailbone. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Yeah, I think six bounces is just about right--I didn't think to count at the time. And then? Did I lay at the bottom of the stairs and moan until someone came to offer sympathy, like any sensible person would do? I did not. I proceeded to get the d*** dog, walked back up the stairs, forced myself not to limp, and proceeded as if NOTHING unusual had happened. I mean, I was in the middle of hosting a party with lots of people that I either have not seen in a long time or do not know at all (Mom's friends from work, etc). And since the noise of the party had covered up the noise of my body bouncing down the stairs, I certainly wasn't about to make anyone the wiser. Of course I did tell Joe later, but all he could do was laugh at me. I didn't even have any crazy bruises to show for the whole thing, to elicit something other than laughter. Guess that means too much padding on my rear end, huh? Talk about a bummer