klutz in the kitch

So today at around 3pm I happen to see the Buick pull up in front of our house. I know my dog Spiro loves to greet Greg off-leash as he exits the car, so I let him out of the house to run down to the street. Greg pats his head and starts to walk up the sidewalk. He stops dead and just stares at me. "What?" I ask him. He points down to my bare left foot, which granted, does look pretty disgusting. I'd sliced the big toe open when I caught it on the front door a few hours earlier, and it has some dried blood, and some fresh blood, because I cut it right on the "toe knuckle," so it breaks open again every time I flex my foot. "That looks like it really hurts," Greg says. "What were you making?" I don't understand at first, but after a few seconds I realize that he is ASSUMING that I sliced my foot open with a kitchen knife. Without even asking me, he just assumes this is what happened. I don't think this is a normal assumption, even when your wife has previously dropped kitchen knives on her feet twice in the last few months. Yes, I am an awful kitchen klutz, and Greg wonders why I insist on keeping the crappy old "brown" knives, when we have a set of really nice, sharp "black" knives (I am deathly afraid of these).

Not that slicing one's foot on the front door is much better, I guess. Now that it's barefoot weather, I prefer to go that way, which is actually pretty safe. It's when I don backless sandals or flipflops that I get clumsy. I absolutely cannot wear backless shoes without having to kind of hold them on and grip them with my toes to keep them on my feet. This sometimes causes tripping and stumbling and any number of klutzy moves. This is how I manged to cut my toe on the door today....by WEARING CRAPPY SHOES. I am continually amazed by people who can walk normally or even run in flipflops. My niece Britta is a pro at this.

So between my backless shoe blunders and my kitchen klutziness, I can sometimes look pretty beat up.