Jeff didn't get home from the basketball game until about 2 a.m. last night. So since he gets Biscuit ready every morning, I figured it would be a nice thing if I took over those duties this morning.
And as they say, no good deed goes unpunished!
I went up and roused Biscuit. I washed his face and combed his hair. He brushed his teeth and got dressed. Then we headed downstairs.
I didn't turn on any downstairs lights, so as we were walking back down the stairs, I thought I had reached the last step. But I hadn't. I fell down the last three steps.
It hurt so bad!
I was sprawled out on the floor, and I started moving everything to make sure nothing was broken. I could tell that my wrist was hurt. I could move it around, but I know it's going to be bruised and sore tomorrow.
Biscuit was freaked out. He came running down the rest of the stairs.
"Mom! Mom!" he said. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I said. "Calm down. I'm okay. But I need you to do me a favor. Can you go and very gently wake up Dad and tell him I've fallen down the stairs? Be gentle. Dad didn't get home until really late last night."
"Okay, Mom," Biscuit said. "I'll be right back."
I sat on the floor for what felt like forever. Finally, Jeff and Biscuit came up the hall.
"Kimmy, are you okay?" Jeff asked. And by this point, I had turned from freaked out to scared to mad and grumpy.
"I'm fine," I said. "Can you just fix his breakfast and lunch so he won't be late for school?"
After a few minutes, I got up and joined them in the kitchen. I grabbed an ice pack and sat down at the kitchen table.
I tried to do something nice, and there I was, sitting at the table while Jeff was having to do all the things I didn't want him to have to do.
Jeff got Biscuit out the door and took him to school.
When Jeff got back home, he said, "Did you hear how your boy told me what happened?"
"There's no telling," I said. "But no, I didn't hear him."
"He came running into the bedroom and said, 'Dad! Did you hear that really loud noise just now?"
"No," Jeff said. "What happened?"
"Well, it wasn't me," Biscuit said. "It was Mom. She fell down the stairs."
Really? He thought it was more important to address the noise it made when I fell over the fact that I at first thought my wrist was broken?!
We've clearly got to talk to that boy about his priorities!