Another long day of unpacking and I'm beat. I'm backing up in the spare bedroom, holding a large box on top of the stepstool because I'm too lazy at this point to move them separately. I misjudge the placement of the bed in the new space and end up falling backward in what feels like slow motion, landing square on my ass, hitting myself in the face with all the stuff in my arms. I'm sitting there kind of stunned, assessing the damage. I have all my teeth and they aren't through my lip (though they feel like they should have been), glasses are intact, ankles are not broken. The kidlet is asking me frantically if I'm ok... if she can do anything.

I am overcome with giggles and ask if she has any spare pride or dignity.

Hehehe. Damn I love this new place.