I think my Oldest, who is miserably clumsy, got it from me. When departing from Co-op on Monday he tripped over the mat in front of the glass door. He made a million loud and annoying sounds as he went down and slammed into me. Thankfully I was there or else he would have slammed into the glass. The kid never sees a day without yelping and holding his foot, or guarding his knee with a scream, or shouting while nursing his head. He is comic.
Yesterday I approached the bathroom door to help my daughter get her tights on when I opened the door, my slipper got in the way, and I just walked into it. You know, like how the Three Stooges hurt themselves. Or something on Tom and Jerry. Like a freaking clown. My temple hit the corner and there I was, wincing in pain, head on wall, tightening my fists. Of all the stupid...
So last night I sat in bed to read and Dear Sir, instead of watching something political on TV, sat next to me. I was so happy to see him emerge that I put my book down to kiss him on the cheek. My nose hit his face.
"Holy cow, your nose is cold!" Dear Sir looked at me like he was worried.
"Yeah, I need something on it---I don't know. I do feel cold." I am always cold.
"You need a nose sweater," he said.
"That would look ridiculous," I said.
"I know--- you could just put on a clown nose, that would work. It would look nice on you."
I shot him a look.
"And you could wear your big ol' slippers and run into doors."