I took eight steps down the stairs this morning. Unfortunately, our stairs have 9 steps. So I dropped 8 inches on the last step and fell forward, twisting my ankle and tearing a hole in my jeans. Luckily my wife was there to help. And by "help" I mean "laugh at me." I disappeared from her view completely in a terrifying instant of panic. And her response was uproarious laughter. She thought it was absolutely hilarious. She started chuckling before I even resurfaced. And before she even knew I was still conscious. Then she immediately called her sister to tell her all about it.
On a lighter note, I now have a reason to get new jeans at Old Navy on Black Friday for $15!
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!