Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Three Words: Word Two

I started this over here when I couldn't think of anything else to write about.  The first word was: Scattered.

Name three words you would use to describe your family.

I wasn't sure what I wanted to write for the second word and then I did this.  I realized I had my second word.

When I search for posts that involve me being clumsy, there are lots of them.  From falling down to tripping over things to breaking things

I realized that my family has the same sense of grace that I do.  My brother sprained his ankle just before moving to a new province.  My sister, Ky, sprained her ankle while walking down library steps and texting.  My other sister, Lyn, has numerous unexplained bruises from doing things like falling up the stairs while walking.

My parents too were not the most coordinated of people.  It was often said of my mother that she could walk across an empty room, trip on the lines of the linoleum, and bump into furniture that is not there.  My father once fell while walking across the kitchen and we all thought the refrigerator had fallen.

Graceful, we are not.

The lack of coordination we have is of epic proportions.  Stories of falling and tripping and breaking and bruising are common in our repertoire.  I look at my legs on any given day and can find 5 - 9 bruises or scrapes I have that I cannot identify their origin.

Where this lack of grace comes from, I do not know.  I don't remember my grandparents falling or tripping.  Grandma L can still scale her cupboard drawers to reach things on the top shelf.  I fall out of bed reaching to turn out the light. 

Maybe it skips a generation and all our kids will be elegant and agile.

Or, maybe not.


  1. I think we're related. For realz.

  2. I am also a member of the clumsy family. I like to think it's an inner ear problem. But it's not.

  3. I once tripped over a sunbeam. True story.

    Also, I was once telling my friend Jill about the movie The Holiday and how much Jack Black's character reminded me of me. Jill says, "Why, was he clumsy?" No, Jill. It's because he sang all the time. But thanks.


Crap monkies say "what?"