I still am in disbelief that the following actually happened to me yesterday:
Let me set the scene for you. Yesterday was Laundry Day (when I designate a day as such, it's serious business: many loads and actually adhering to the garment care instructions on the labels). I was getting towards the end of my laundry run and was feeling pretty exhilarated about finally checking this gargantuan task off my longish to-do list. I just picked up a load out of the dryer and was ready to move upstairs for folding and sorting. I had left an empty basket on the washer, so I lifted the full basket up over the empty one so I could carry them both upstairs with me. Being cheery and full of song is a dangerously distracting condition, and I realized it soon after I dropped the heavy basket down over that empty one. I hesitate to describe exactly what happened, but let's just say that I got one of my two 'babies' caught between the handles of the two laundry baskets. Yeeeeeeah. Big. BIG. Ouch. What followed was white hot agony punctuated by some 'choice words' for the offending baskets. Some self-administered medical care was required.
The moral to this story? If you got extra 'blessings', keep 'em clear of falling laundry baskets. The End. [*sigh*]
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