My son and I share an apartment; he gets the master bedroom with its own bathroom. I get the kitchen. We have separated the living room into two sections for our separate chairs and cabinets of stuff! I believe my section is by far the neatest, he tends to disagree, of course.
The other day I had to close the window (his side) and gingerly stepped over three pair of shoes, a week’s newspapers, a plastic bin of more newspapers and magazines, and the final obstacle, a stack of two cardboard boxes. Well, you have the picture in your head already
Just as my one foot was planted firmly between the bin and the shoes, I raised my other leg to circumvent the newspapers and straddle the box when the foot on the newspapers slipped. With much gesturing, swearing and trying to hold balance, I skated less than gracefully forward while falling backwards seat-first into the cardboard boxes.
Where I couldn’t get out.
Without calling for help from you-know-who.
Who was asleep in his master bedroom with its own bathroom.
I do admit it was almost worth it to see the sheepish look on his face when he saw me ass-over-teakettle in his box and I was damn hard to remove from the angle around his stuff. It seems my fall worked a miracle, the area is much neater and when the window needs closing, there is a cleared path and the boxes are missing.
I guess there is some point to having a mother ass fall into your box of important stuff.
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