Monkey Down

Goodbye, Melvin the Monkey soap dispenser.

You were a breakable object, and coexisted in a home with me, therefore, your ultimate demise was inevitable.

My glasses were on the sink, so I couldn’t really see what happened to you, but I was drying my hair (upside down style for that extra volume effect) and suspect that a cord snag and massive hair flip were involved.

 

Love Hurts

Things I have done — accidentally of course — in the name of klutziness:

• Used hydro-cortisone cream as toothpaste.
• Sniffed eye drops. (Dude, that hurt. The eye drops sort of looked like my Afrin bottle. Afrin in the eyes would have been worse, right?)
• Elbowed my husband in the face. (I was just reaching for a pillow. Still, he totally got a black eye from that one.)
• Sat on a cream filled desert.

Please Be Kind to the Klutzes in Your Life!

Hi.

I am a klutz.

 

(Above: The sturdy coffee mugs — obviously marketed towards children, weird — from which I drink every beverage. Even wine. You think I can have wine glasses in my home, fool? In our first year of marriage, I broke every one of the two dozen just regular glasses my husband brought into the union. He learned. Oh, yes, he learned.)