The Mama can be a bit klutzy. Okay, fine. I am a bit klutzy. There is nothing conditional about it. And while I am being honest, I should probably omit “a bit” from that second sentence to ensure genuine transparency. So let’s start this post over.
The Mama is klutzy. Not once, but twice last week I hit my head on an open cabinet door whilst putting away the dishes. Alice witnessed the second meeting of my noggin with the corner of the cabinet door. She asked me to lean down. Naive mother who I am, I expected a smooch right on my ouch spot.* It came, but there was hesitation. Before I had a chance to wonder aloud about the delay, Alice clued me in: “I looked before I kissed so there was no bugs where I was going to kiss.”
An ounce of prevention…
* Ouch spot is Alice’s term for any discrete location in which she feels pain.