Tonight was going to be awesome! Ryan is out late, so I have the house to myself. Meg was tired early, which meant she would asleep by 8:30 at the latest. There was nothing on TV I wanted to watch. I was going to sit down, have a glass of wine, catch up on blogs, and maybe even send my own missive out into cyberspace. You know, something funny about how Christine O'Donnell is taking the fun out of this for me by making the jokes too easy.
That's what I was going to do.
Meg fell asleep at 8:15. Score. I stood up and started to move her from the living room to her bedroom. Her pacifier fell out. She startled. I quickly put it back in her mouth, knowing I could remedy the situation with just a few minutes in the rocking chair. I moved in
to her dark room, and turned around to sit down in the rocker. And I totally missed.
Out rocking chair is not padded. It is not soft. It is a wooden rocking chair, with wooden slats for the seat. Every one of those slats was now pressed into my back, and trying it's best to strip the skin away. I bit my lip and held on tight to Meg, not wanting to drop her, or disturb her. That really wasn't going to happen though, and I let out an enormous yalp of pain as I crumpled to the ground around her.
So, there we were on the floor. The room was still dark. I was crying. Meg was crying. Our dog Sally was just trying to figure out what the fuck happened. Eventually we all calmed down, I turned on the light, assessed the damage done to my back (just a scrape, a REALLY BIG scrape, but a scrape nonetheless), and we went out to the living room to start the process over again.
Meg just fell back to sleep. My back is killing me. Sorry I didn't read any of your blogs tonight, and that this is all you are getting from me.
Wait, I'll make it better -- here's a funny picture of a carrot from my friend Andrew's garden.
See, it looks like it has a penis! HA!
Yeah, I'm done. Good night.