Monday, January 23, 2012

When You Fall, The Stairs Won't Catch You

Since living in my current place of residence I have had a falling accident on two separate occasions. I should put out there that I never claim to be the most graceful of human beings, I fall quite often, and quite dramatically. As a person who always finds another person falling hilarious, I look at it as some sort of karmic retribution. I have fallen up stairs, slid down stairs, fallen trying to skim board in the snow (there I should point out that I didn't skim board, I stepped upon the skim board and promptly fell), fallen on my knees in school, in the snow, on the ski slopes. I fall all the time, and always with an operatic shriek.

The other day, when the house was full of people (of course, I have never once fallen without an audience), I was scrambling down the steps when at the top of the landing I missed one. Since my arms were full I had nothing to catch myself with and instead went toppling forward down the steps. It's an odd sensation, falling head first down the steps. I hit the carpeted staircase with a scream and an "oh my god!" fully aware that I was most definitely attracting unwanted attention. Those around me began to murmor and cry out, "oh dear," they said, and "oh my" too. I reciprocated with my own yelp and continued my tumble, losing my camera to the laminate floor ahead.

I thought I could steady myself, gripping the carpet desperately to stop my descent, however I seemed to have gained enough momentum that I toppled forward further. At the bottom of the stairs I was shocked, people were rushing about me asking if I was alright. I assured them that I was, but I could not abide by my normal rule of falling and laugh it off. That is key kids, LAUGH OFF your falling. Everyone else wants to laugh at you, you might as well too. Instead, I burst into tears of embarrassment, which actually worked quite well to repel some of the people around me. Making people uncomfortable is a VERY effective way to get people away from you, I would know.

The thing I was most struck by was how ridiculous I must have looked, toppling and shrieking down the steps. One of my dear friends described it as when a plank on an uneven surface is disrupted. Another girl assured everyone that I was not hurt, I fell too slowly to be hurt. Excellent.

I was not in fact hurt, my ankle betrayed a bit of rug burn later in the evening however it was only the sting of extreme embarrassment that I felt that fateful night.


  1. I love how you fell too slowly to be hurt...cute and funny story. I have 5 billion falling stories, but I tend to fall fast. Thanks for sharing!

    1. Thank you, Tracie! I love the little illustrations that go along with your stories!