Home > Uncategorized > How Did This Happen?

How Did This Happen?

I try to be respectful to my husband and not write about his quirks, as he does not blog and has no opportunity to tell the world about the many ridiculous things that I do.  However, I have to speak on this particular issue, because I’m led to believe that it’s a widespread phenomenon.  Also, it probably reflects much more poorly on me, so therefore it’s fair game.

I’ll start by admitting my clumsiness.  I get in a hurry and I hurt myself.  I have a toe that has been broken so many times that it’s barely a toe anymore.  I have closed my front door on my hand.  I have broken my thumb trying to get a bottle of water out of the fridge.  I regularly close the car door on my hair, without realizing it until I try to move my head.  I own this peculiarity of mine.  I’m a klutz and I get ridiculous injuries.

Now, since this is not a new thing about me, you might think that my husband of seventeen years might be used to it by now.  You might suspect that when I get a new injury, he will rush to my aid without question.  You would be very wrong on that front, my friend.

A couple of weeks ago, I was getting something out of the refrigerator.  Things went downhill rather quickly and before I even knew what was happening, an avalanche of bottles fell out, a shelf fell onto my hand (a direct hit on that previous broken bone…SCORE) and one wayward water bottle was steadily pouring 16.9 ounces of water directly under my oven.  Trapped by the shelf and hypnotized by the flood of water, I couldn’t do anything but call for help.

Hubs arrived at the scene promptly and I breathed a sigh of relief, waiting for my rescue from the wayward shelf.  I was sorely disappointed as the scene before him was apparently more than he could process.  I didn’t hear, “Oh, let me help you from that salad-dressing induced trap.”  What I heard was what I always hear when these things happen.  “What the hell happened here?  How did you do this??”

I don’t know, I don’t know.  I never know how I did that.  It’s as if I black out while aliens and/or malicious ghosts wreak havoc upon my life and all I know is that something stupid has injured me yet again.  Now, I understand that my catastrophes are laughable.  I don’t, say, fall down the stairs and sprain my ankle like a normal person.  I get thirsty and my refrigerator attacks me.  I don’t know why and I certainly don’t understand how this happened.  All I know is that I now have a mini-flood under the oven, which is, incidentally, busy cooking and I have a heavy hunk of appliance resting on my abused thumbbone.  The very last thing I am capable of at this moment is any coherent explanation.

To his credit, he has, over the years, gotten much quicker at springing into action.  He just needs a bit of prodding in the form of “I don’t know!  It just happened, please just help me.”  I have tried to include this in my original cry for help, but it’s not terribly effective.  He’s always frozen for at least a split-second when he arrives at the scene.

Recently, I’ve noticed a disturbing trend in my children.  My son asked me for at least a week after this event, just how that happened.  I still have no answer for him, no more than my daughter can answer just how she fell down while walking across a room.  I have come to believe that both of my guys possess an orderly type of brain that can’t process the chaotic events that seem to stalk my daughter and me.

So this is my message to the world of orderly brains who encounter people like us.  Bizarre things happen to us.  We get into inexplicable situations from which we require rescue.  You are wasting everyone’s time by asking how that happened.  It will forever be a mystery.  Please just extricate us from the part of our home/car/world that has attacked us and try not to laugh too loudly.

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  1. May 20, 2013 at 12:14 pm

    You are not alone. My daughter possess the same skill, yes a skill. It is something no other human on earth can do.

    • May 20, 2013 at 12:40 pm

      I like the way you approach it…I mean, we could have old boring accidents, but we have a special skill set. 😉

  2. May 21, 2013 at 9:34 pm

    This stuff happens to my sister all the time. Rest assured there are no explanations, just laughter (whether it’s too soon or not)…

    • May 26, 2013 at 7:03 am

      Oh yes, the concept of asking if I’m okay BEFORE laughing if out the window…they usually ask while sputtering with laughter and/or bewilderment.

  3. May 28, 2013 at 12:39 pm

    Oh my god, I know. My husband witnessed me HIT MYSELF on the BACK of my OWN HEAD with a frying pan. I sometimes poke myself in the eye with my own fingers. It is humiliating. When they great you in ER with “oh Hello!” you know you are one of the serious clumsy. Hugs!

    • June 2, 2013 at 3:34 pm

      It’s good to know I’m not alone in this…also good to have something to strive for, since I’ve not yet managed to hit myself on the back of the head with anything more impressive than walls, shelves or doors. 🙂

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