My typical morning was disrupted today with a spill down the first section of stairs in our townhome. I usually wake up and head downstairs...grab my work laptop on my way to get it fired up(it takes numerous clicks and one restart each morning to get me up and running for the day) as I take the dogs out, start my breakfast, and make my tea. With my work laptop in hand, I head toward the stairs and whoosh...legs fly out from under me, laptop crashes into my face, my work planner flies out of my hands, Stuart bolts downstairs, I thump thump thump down the stairs on my back side, and scream bloody murder.
**Last night was Mike's short night so he got home around 3am and was still sleeping**
Within seconds, Mike was bolted out of bed, threw Boulevard in the bedroom, and was sitting on the stairs next to me asking me if I was ok as I was moaning and groaning and crying. AND...yep I'm ok, my lip was a little swollen and my already "bad back" is a little sore but I'm healthy and alive with no broken bones. :) I proceed to gather up my laptop (by the way...there were no injuries to the laptop either because I never let go of it) :) and head downstairs and poor Stuart is cowering near the front door. I'm guessing he probably thought my screams were directed toward him(because typically when I raise my voice, I'm yelling at him). LOL! But we all survived!
Mike later told me that I probably woke up people 5 blocks away with my screams! Ooops!