So it’s already after 9 am and I was supposed to be out of the house an hour ago, but here I am, all dressed up and on my hands and knees creeping down the hallway with my bifocals on, my left hand carrying a flashlight, my right sweeping the narrow hall carpet for my gold earring that I pulled off when my ring caught in it while I was combing my hair. No, it gets worse.
I felt the damn thing bounce off my shoe, so I stand up and check just inside one of the bedrooms, pulling the door shut to look behind it, and whack myself in the forehead quite forcefully. Run down the hall to the kitchen for an ice cube, but instead grab whatever I find.
Now I’m crawling back down the hall with a flashlight in one hand, and a container of frozen shrimp cocktail sauce in the other, clamped to my forehead.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
Please warn me next time so I don’t spurt coffee all over my keyboard and snort it down my windpipe whilst reading your entry!
Oh my, the flashlight and earring, yes, been there done that, but the shrimp cocktail…..
LOL!
It was one of those little plastic containers that come with take-out, and fit perfectly over the rising bump on my head.
Sorry about the coffee–I’m just glad nobody was home to watch the spectacle.