One time I decided to walk instead of drive to church, and thought, cool, I don’t have to carry my car key. Sadly, it’s on the same ring as the house key. Dislodging the air conditioner to climb in the window is no fun at all.
We always drove to church, since it was a few miles away. One Sunday when I was little, we returned home to find that the deadbolt on the front door had dropped itself down (or had been nudged into place by one of the cats). This was a deadbolt that had no associated key–it was affixed to the door and dropped into the floor, and it could only be opened or closed from inside the house. The back door had a similar deadbolt that was always engaged, since we used the front door almost exclusively.
Guess who Mom hoisted up to the kitchen window (probably five or six feet above ground level) so she could scrabble through, drop into the sink, hop down, and run into the living room to unlock the door?
<-----
When I found out that Google maps “street view” had come around to our area I went on the computer looking up people’s houses. I looked up my parents house and lo and behold there it was with my step-dads truck in the driveway. So I called up my mom and told her that I was looking at their house online via “street view”. She responded saying that she was outside watering and asked if I could see her. We got a good chuckle out of that.
One of the outdoor cats? 
My Mom and I were watching TV and an ad for the Songs 4 Life Christian CDs came on. I scoffed saying it’s silly to put “4” as if it’s cool or something. Mom in a fit of brain fart says “Yes, they should just spell it out, f-o-u-r.” Yes, we laffed.
I have done this, only it was part of the hallway. However, when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade! I got hours of fun throwing a cat toy down the hall to watch Lenny and Squiggy careen out of control when they hit the slippery spot at full tilt.
Night before last I was sitting in bed, working on crafty stuff, mainly cutting cardboard tubes to make jewelry. I was using an exacto knife (brand-new – very sharp!!), and in a blink, the blade was buried in my thigh. Lots of blood everywhere, and the only other person home was my teenage daughter who was asleep in the living room. I finally hobbled into the living room, clutching a bloodstained wodge of kleenex to my thigh, and woke her to give her a lesson in applying butterfly strips to my wound. I probably should have had it stitched, but I’m too bull-headed. Last night I decided to try that liquid bandage stuff. Holy moly, that stuff burns!!!
Last Wednesday afternoon I decided to reheat some pizza. I usually end up burning pizza when I reheat it so this time I only turned the oven up to 200. I had my pizza and went on my merry way, including two very late nights, plus work the next two days plus a weekend out of town.
On Monday night, I discovered that the oven was still on… :smack: x 10…
The one brand new vehicle I’ve ever owned was in dire need of a bath, so I decided to give it some TLC. It was finally paid off after four years, but aside from the grime it was still tip top. I decided to detail it, inside and out, new floor mats, some touch up paint, wax, window de-fog treatment, etc. After I was standing back admiring my artistry, I noticed water spots on the graphite composite antennae. Instead of grabbing one of the dozens of rags handy, I simply ran my fingers up the length, and as I was bringing them back down the length of the thing, I noticed how the front, or windward side had developed lots of little fractures. I managed to impale my thumb with a six inch long splinter of jagged antennae, in on one side of the nail, out on the other, darn near dead center of my poor digit. As I was considering whether to pull it on through, or back it out, my whole arm started going spasmodic. I had to brace my arm against my truck to keep it still while I removed the splinter. Two fountains of blood began shooting all over my blue Toyota. Professional car washes from here on out for this moron.
Embarrassing photographs. She’ll be a 14 year old with a boyfriend before you blink.
IMO anything involving the delta between normal physics and a toddler’s ability to move into the danger zone should not count.
Good Mommy! but soooo sorry about the pain!
Two words: Pug Bowling
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcKOQrz19Yg (skip to :42 to start)
:mad::mad:That is SO MEAN!!! :mad::mad:
::runs off giggling to find a can of Pledge and some cats::
Her name was Julie, I think.
Already compiling an album… 
Mrs. Mado and myself were posted to Japan. I went a head a few months and came back to California for a week to get her. Mrs. Mado is one of those people who, if she lived in the 17th century would have 2 footmen to carry her luggage when travelling. We can’t afford footmen since we live in this one, so I get to fill the part(s).I am very organized when travelling to the point of infuriation for my wife who is of a culture that doesn’t prize punctuality or feel that the rules like maximum number of pieces or weight particularly apply to them.
I like to explain that to people, thus; I ask them “you know what manana means, right?” “Tomorrow…” they say chuffed at their bilingualism.” No", I say “It means ‘not today’”. It’s an indication of attitude not temporality. I continue, “Well, my wife has the same sense of “manana” but without any of its urgency.”… but I digress.
My wife was away, buying something; that is usually what she is doing when she is away. I fret while she buys, more stuff to pack for a plane trip that is brutal enough without having to lug a wardrobe the size of which would make Norma Desmond envious; the kind of pile of clothes and other things that they used to make extra large steamer trunks for. Anyway, to be efficient, I decide, in her absence to box up everything not in a suitcase in our room and send it out via the post. Let Uncle Sam carry it.
I move with my usually efficiency and alacrity and have it all boxed and taped and in the trunk of the car most skosh. My wife returns with only 4 shopping bags, a miracle of restraint. We decide to go post the box and then go have sushi, since we are flying to Japan in 3 days and won’t be having it for god knows how long, maybe even 4 days.
Mission accomplished we drive away from the post office. On the way into the restaurant, my wife asks, “Where’s the folder with all the papers and magazines I had.” “Oh, I put that in the box we just sent to Japan, just a bunch of extra weight I don’t have to carry on the plane…”, I reply in blithe ignorance. “My passport was in that, you know”, she says with more calmness than I would have had. Meanwhile the NPR news was just repeating the news they had been giving all day. Clinton refuses to bow to the Speaker, Government to shut down tomorrow…
WOW! I would have sworn that a fire would have erupted during that sometime for sure! You have been lucky (aside from the energy bill you will be getting :()
Poor goodie’s spaghetti-water story reminded me of something I did not once but twice: sprained an ankle while carrying a baby. The first time the infant was in a sling and I was walking across an icy parking lot after midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. I slipped, clutched the baby to my chest and took the entire fall on my ankle.
The second time I had a carseat by the handle and was walking down the steps. For some reason my ankle turned as I hit the bottom step and … I don’t know what I did but I ended up on the floor with my leg turned under me and the baby on top of me.
Both instances were pure mommy instinct. I couldn’t prepare for those reactions if I tried. But UGH the shades of yellow and purple my ankles turned!
I did this just last week, and I can’t believe I did it.
I went to use my credit card, and discovered that it had just expired. I didn’t recall getting a new one, so I called the credit card company. They verified that they had sent a new one in July, so it must have been lost in the mail. That’s the same as being stolen, so we closed out the card and opened a new account. You know what a hassle this entails, having to notify all my automatic payment companies. I hate it when this happens.
After I hung up, I had to go through some papers on my desk, and there is the new credit card they sent in July. :smack: Nope, it’s too late to undo the new card and keep the old one.
An old one, but the most interesting injury I’ve inflicted on myself.
When I was a young’un, I found myself in need of something in the cupboard over the stove. I was too short for even a chair to work, so I scrambled up on the counter. I inched over towards the cupboard door … and put my foot down directly on the still hot stove burner. I somehow managed not to fall off of the counter while flailing around with one foot in the air.
For a while, I had the most interesting perfect concentric circles burned into the sole of my foot. Unfortunately, it didn’t scar. (I would love to show that to people!)