Upon moving into my apartment this year it was often stated that somehow, sometime, someone would die because of our metal circular staircase. I never thought it would be me.
Last Sunday night I was running downstairs so as not to miss more than was necessary of Emma. However, about five steps from the bottom my right foot slipped and I tumbled down the rest of the way. It must have sounded horrible because Liz and Rachel quickly ran down to find my mangled body at the bottom. I was a mess of tears and laughter. My right foot was on fire from scraping down the metal stairs with all of my body weight.
I'm glad I could fulfill the prophecy.
1 comment:
Oh no! You know that I myself have fallen down stairs a couple times. But never metal stairs. Ouch. But I wish I had been there to witness it.
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