My clumsiness is legendary. I've tried to blame it on chemo but that only works with people I've met since 2000. Everyone else knows better. I walk into walls, trip over curbs and fall up steps. It's not that I'm uncoordinated, at least not in the regular sense. It's because my feet and my head get out of sync. I'm the poster child for "can't walk and chew gum at the same time." I should be accompanied by a laugh track.
For example, one Sunday afternoon I fell into the BFI garbage bin. Debbie and I were working in the yard and I went to get the garbage can. Like all commercial garbage containers, it had wheels and a hinged lid. The lid hung open on the handle side. I tipped the can back to push it into the yard but didn't notice that the lid was dangling right in front of my feet. Talking a blue streak and rolling the can, I marched right up the lid. When the weight distribution was just right the can tipped and I fell in, head first. I never saw it coming but Debbie did. I cussed and thrashed until I got the can to fall on its side. Scrambling out, I looked for Debbie. I heard her before I saw her. With the neck of her t-shirt over her mouth she was trying not to laugh but failing miserably. If I had been hurt she couldn't have helped me. Then I cracked up. I've always been my own best audience and that was a fall worthy of Carol Burnett, one for the archives.
I take solace in the fact that BFI warns its customers not to roll their cans with the lids open. It's printed on the side if I had only stopped to read it.
For example, one Sunday afternoon I fell into the BFI garbage bin. Debbie and I were working in the yard and I went to get the garbage can. Like all commercial garbage containers, it had wheels and a hinged lid. The lid hung open on the handle side. I tipped the can back to push it into the yard but didn't notice that the lid was dangling right in front of my feet. Talking a blue streak and rolling the can, I marched right up the lid. When the weight distribution was just right the can tipped and I fell in, head first. I never saw it coming but Debbie did. I cussed and thrashed until I got the can to fall on its side. Scrambling out, I looked for Debbie. I heard her before I saw her. With the neck of her t-shirt over her mouth she was trying not to laugh but failing miserably. If I had been hurt she couldn't have helped me. Then I cracked up. I've always been my own best audience and that was a fall worthy of Carol Burnett, one for the archives.
I take solace in the fact that BFI warns its customers not to roll their cans with the lids open. It's printed on the side if I had only stopped to read it.
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