Tuesday 2 August 2011

The funny side of falling over

I fall over – a lot. And it’s mostly when I’m sober. At the weekend, I managed to get my own boot lace shut in my front door and went tumbling forward. It would have been funny, only for the 6 month old baby strapped to my front. Baby was fine, so it turned out funny in the end and left me with yet another bruise.

But why do I fall so much? I’m not dyspraxic (my mother-in-law is an expert and shortly after meeting me, made me perform a series of tests). I have no other disabilities that I’m aware of. I’m just clumsy.

My husband thinks differently, he says I’m careless, I fail to risk assess properly (huh?) and like life in general, I just plunge right in. It doesn’t help that my spatial awareness* is non-existent. My head thinks I’m a size 8, so when I try to squeeze my post-baby size 16 arse through a small space suitable only for posh spice – it ain’t happening.

But there is something really funny about seeing someone fall over. With this is mind I put an appeal out to friends for their falling over stories. I’m going to publish them on this blog – but one of the responses shone through so I’m posting this one first. Read it, picture it in your mind and I'm sure you'll go to bed laughing, just as I did. Read it here.

If you’ve got a funny, sad, outrageous, crazy falling over story to share, let me know – or simply add a comment.

3 comments:

  1. I too am careless... particularly in the mind of my husband... is it because we are trying to think of 20 things at once as well as doing about five of them, oh and putting the kettle on for a quick coffee just to save time??!
    I don't fall over, but I do drop things (lots of things), cut myself, hurt myself, bump into things, ah well... at least it's not been anything fatal... yet.

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  2. Two falls in 5 years and both eye-watering:
    Number 1. A hell-for-leather-face-plant running out of nursery to work and tripping on a satchel strap. Uncontrollable tears in front of other hurrying parents. Oh no!
    Number 2. Totnes High Street, carrying 9 month old Daisy in my arms but weirdly facing forwards with her legs hanging over the front. No path, just a narrow kerb, which I tripped up and over landing full weight on my knees. No chance to put my hands out - whilst trying not to smash a wee kid's face in the floor. Couldn't move despite the oncoming traffic for a good five minutes. Pain, shock and excrutiating embarrassment.
    I now tip toe everywhere.Slowly.

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  3. I actually laughed out loud at the nursery one. It's so you Ms Topps....

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