Yesterday, my dad fell off a ladder.
He is okay, but he fell off a ladder.
He was taking down Christmas decorations (some garland and other stuff from this way up high place in their house) and he missed a step coming down. As in, he missed the step that says do not stand here because he is short (like me, or I’m short like him, whichever way you want to put it) and so he was standing above the step that says do not stand here and actually standing on the very tippy top of the ladder where no one is supposed to stand ever, it’s actually just there for looks, and serves as a base for the ladder to open and look like a ladder. Yes, that step.
And don’t get me started on the ladder itself.
It’s the oldest thing in the world and looks like it could fall apart at any moment.
My dad doesn’t like it when I write about him so we all have to keep this story very very very quiet and not tell him that I wrote this post. And, seeing as how my mom reads my blog faithfully (she is a proud mom and actually tells dental hygienists about me – true story), I need a moment to tell her something. Excuse me.