Accident Prone

I am beginning to suspect- this is only a inner feeling by the way- that I happen to be a bit accident prone. This suspicion has been growing on me for a while, and, in a moment of curiosity, I confided my thoughts to my friend while we were walking outside.  Her immediate answer of "A bit accident prone!  Ha!  More like you are a gigantic amount accident prone-ness!" confirmed my suspicion.  I cocked my eyebrow at her, and while attempting to assemble a suitable comeback, stubbed my toe on the only rock in the whole road.  I therefore gave up replying to her and resigned myself to being accident prone. 

I thought on it for a time and while doing so, it brought forth many circumstances where it did indeed appear that I was accident prone. There is the time where my mom sent me to the store to go get some milk for breakfast. I was quite tired, and I got in the car and shut my door preparatory to backing out of the garage.  Then, and I can not explain this action, I re-opened the car door and stuck my hand out, holding onto the top of the car, and slammed the car door as hard as I could.  On my hand.  Do not ask me to explain, it must have been the work of some mischievous spirit.  But my poor little hand was quite swollen and it hurt for some time afterwards.

I also tend to trip over things that everybody else avoids with ease.  It is indeed a problem. I am in a play, and at a practice we were discussing ideas, one of which involved me stealing a stick horse. I, getting into the spirit of the thing, pretended to ride a stick horse across the stage, and conveniently tripped over a plug-in heater, the only thing on the whole stage.  I picked myself up, dusted myself off, and putting a superior look on my face, attempted to make a dignified exit. But twas not to be.  I was wearing a tutu, part of my costume, and it slid down and tripped me again. Ahhh, the sadness.

My friend came over once to give me a Christmas present.  It was a lovely little decorative bag of candies.  We sat there and talked for a while, then I, thoughtlessly, tossed the bag up in the air. I who have never missed catching something in  my life, missed it.  And of course it fell on the ground and broke open, spilling the lovely candies all over the ground.  My friend and I stared at them for a while.  How sad! 

I do not tell you this to complain. I tell you this because all the individuals that happen to be present when I preform my accidental antics find them most amusing.  So there you are.  Such are the trials of accident prone-ness.