BrushUp
Really? I drop something while descending the stairs. Heard it hit and bounce away. Maybe I shouldn’t have been carrying so many items I couldn’t see where I was stepping; you know…being tralinear. Occupational hazard of motherhood, I guess. Big Woop! I’ll come back and get it, whatever it was, wherever it landed, after I jettison all this cargo.
Didn’t see it land on the bottom step. For such a linear object it sure had all the properties of a ball bearing. Somehow I did not drop a thing, except myself, landing painfully on my back. I got up slowly and put down my load on the sofa. How lucky? Besides the impending bruises, I appeared to be alright.
Now, if I intended for it to land on a step, if it meant winning a prize made in China worth a dime, it would have rolled disappointingly through the cracks. But, no…there it is, perfectly perched. What was I going to use it for anyway? I have no recollection. Oh yeah, I was going to paint a little sign because of the construction...Watch Your Step. In the immortal words of the ‘oh-so-wise’ Bart Simpson, “the ironing is delicious.”