I’m not the world’s most graceful person, which is why I have a favorite T-shirt that says, “I do my own stunts but never intentionally.” This was never more true than the time, Sir Groucho’s tail got under my heel when I reached up to get something off the top shelf in the kitchen. When my heel came down on his tail, he yowled, which startled me and I fell, landing on my well-cushioned rear and then hitting my head on the cabinet—breaking it. I was able to get up and was all right except for a headache. For months, though, I suffered endless jokes about my hard-headedness. And the cabinet did need major repairs. It would’ve been a really silly situation to watch, but it also brought home to me just how easy it would be to seriously hurt yourself. So, I’m thinking about getting a LilfeAlert or something similar.
Speaking of graceful, have you ever toppled off a toilet? I almost did once. Whenever I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, I’m sleepy. So, if I stay very long on the toilet, I start to nod off. Well, that happened one night, and the next thing I knew, my upper body was toppling sideways headed for the floor. I woke up mid-fall and caught myself with my hand. That jolted me awake. That would’ve been a hilarious silly situation to watch.
Sometimes, I don’t pay attention to which gadget I’ve picked up and do something really silly. More than once when the phone was sitting near the TV remote, I’d pick it up and wonder why the TV didn’t come on when I pushed the top button––until I actually looked at what I’d picked up.I really haven’t tried calling anybody on my TV remote––yet! But I wouldn’t bet against it!
And when my landline is near the calculator when I’m balancing my checkbook or doing bills, I’ve been known to start crunching numbers on it without looking up. That only lasts for a second, before I say, “Silly me!”
Then there’s those “forgetful” silly situations. I find myself going out to the garage or basement to do a particular thing or to retrieve something really important. While I’m there, I think of one or two more reasons to be there and forget all about my original purpose––until, I’m back upstairs. I’m sure that happens to all of us.
I’m also forgetful regarding my glasses. I nearly always have them on, but occasionally I don’t. But I’ll still catch myself trying to adjust them, when I don’t even have them on.
When I’m on duty at Backstreet Gallery in the afternoon shift, it means I have to prepare and drop off the deposit at the bank on my way home. More than once, I’ve realized that I forgot to drop it off just as I reach my driveway. Automatic garage door opens and car pulls into driveway. Car backs out of driveway and garage door closes and car heads back to town. Neighbors must think I’m nuts. I know, I’m not the only one who has done this, but it’s one more of my silly situations.
On my first day back as a clerk at the Gallery after it had been closed for a couple months, I was so proud of myself for remembering how to do everything––or so I thought. It took me until aImost closing time to realize that I’d forgotten the most important thing of all––to mark down in the sales log whose items were sold. Adding those up at the end of the month is how we get paid. So glad I remembered.
The other day, though, I got a little concerned about my memory, when I was going to Yachats to deliver some books and remembered everything, but the books. I had the invoice, and I got gas while I was in town. I had jotted down how many of each book was requested and had the list in hand. I had the pen to sign the books before putting them in the car. I had my jacket in case of rain. I had my camera in case of great waves. I was ready. I got in the car and thought that I better put the books in the nifty book container that I keep in the car. That’s when I realized, I didn’t have the damn books.
I’ll end on my silliest of all. I was soaking in my walk-in tub and reading an article about George Clooney, when I couldn’t get two pages unstuck. Man, I really worked at it and finally, finally got them apart. By then, a fourth of the magazine was soaking wet. That one, I’ll blame on George.