“If anyone asks, tell them I tripped on a rug.”
That’s what I told Neil not long after I had finished sweeping up the large amount of thick, broken glass from the hallway outside our flat.
Backtracking, if you know me or have read this blog for awhile, you’ll know I have Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (amongst other things). That “hyper” part? Important to the story. And I’d just had a coffee too. And lunch. So I was a jet on the runway just itching to take off.
I like to wrestle.
Horseplay was something I didn’t get a lot of as an only child and so I’m a bit of a late-bloomer where rough-housing is concerned. One of my outlets for the hyperactive energy is a bit of wrestling here and there. Did I mention I’m clumsy? Oh yes, this combination has consequences.
Most of the time, wrestling is fun, good exercise, and done where we are not likely to get hurt or damage anything. Today however, in my hyperactive, caffeine and food-fuelled haze, I decided that a swift attack as Neil exited the living room would be THE BEST IDEA EVER. Yeah, I know…
We scuffled, twisted, and stumbled in the narrow hallway of the flat, our bodies teetering on a rapidly disappearing speck of balance. We hurtled as one towards the front door. In an effort to avoid a potentially unpleasant head wound, Neil severely corrected our trajectory away from the coat hooks on the wall, but the change had its cost: my butt went through one of the four large panels of glass of our front door.
It was magnificent.
The crash! The sound of thick, wood-framed glass shattering under the weight of Welshman and wife combined! The hollowness of the concrete and brick hallway amplifying the collision! Although I feel a huge sheepishness over the situation, the result was pretty spectacular in its own way.
Needless to say, I’m going to endeavour to avoid wrestling in less than ideal environments in the future. And also, if you’re concerned about my posterior, don’t be. Our front door has a bamboo, roll-up blind that provided a perfectly safe buffer between my booty and the broken. The only bleeding will be of our wallets once the glass repairmen have finished tomorrow.
Fortunately, Neil and I have a good sense of humour, and despite the expense of the situation, we’re laughing and smiling about it.
And if the landlady asks, I tripped on a rug.