The clumsy gene

When someone you care about is having a hard time, you do what you can to help, don’t you?  It’s been tricky helping out my Sisters now I’m not round the corner from them and I did wish I could do more than just borrow Little Pea a bit.  Now I wish I hadn’t wished quite so hard.  Because it seems that to help her out, I have unintentionally taken on Sister 1’s clumsy gene.

Sister 1 is clumsy in a small child sort of way.  For the last week, she hasn’t done anything daft, but I have:

Last Friday I fell over on my run.  I landed on one of my substantial calves, catching both elbows and my left armpit (how?  Who grazes their armpit?!) on the way down.  I got to compare hurts with Little Pea at the weekend, and he was quite impressed:

This photo does not do it justice at all.  It’s really impressive.  Honest.

The next day, I headbutted the corner of the shed.  Not just a little bump, you understand;  I cut my head open.

Two days later, stretching after a run I caught my head on the metal postbox by our front door (it’s one of those fixed to the wall).  I still have an egg on my forehead.

And then I cooked pasta.  The spiral ones that have a hole going all the way though their wiggle so that if you take a piece out of the boiling pot of water to test if it’s ready, you drain that boiling water out and onto your lip:

That photo doesn’t do it justice either.  You’re looking bottom left.  It was impressive.  Honest.

So even though my photos don’t seem to prove much at all, I do believe I have taken the clumsy gene from Sister 1 in the spirit of helping her out.  And while I’m all for helping, Sister 1, could we maybe just share the clumsy gene for a while?  At this rate I’ll have no body parts left without a hurt on them!  :o)

 

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