The dangers of home...

My body is older than my age. Like Indiana Jones said, it's not the years, it's the mileage. Unfortunately for me, I'm not getting any good mileage on my body and I don't have a cool hat like him. Some of the recent bad mileage is as follows:

Yesterday I heroically sprained my left ankle while doing the dangerous task of carrying our baby to the van. No, not through some pot-hole riddled parking lot but rather in our garage. There just so happens to be a one inch lip at the end of the garage (to keep water out I guess) and I stepped on that and pop went the ankle. Heroically? Well, I didn't drop the baby!

Three weeks ago I hurt my right knee. How you say? Playing football? Basketball? Jumping over a fence? Nope. I gracefully slipped on my living room floor and smashed my knee into the edging between the laminate floor and the carpet. Big ouch. My knee was very sore for a week but has been upgrade to mostly sore since. My knee-cap is still tender but I'm hoping it will be fine w/ more time. I hope there wasn't any permanent damage to the knee though it is still uncomfortable to kneel on that side.

I must add that it was a smooth move. I caught some serious air and Tara thought I was faking the fall because the thud of me landing was way too loud to be real. I had been playing with Big J and was keeping an unopened bag of Doritos away from him. When I fell, he happily let me lay there in my agony while triumphantly snatching the Dorito bag from me and claiming victory.

I'm not paranoid, but I think this house is out to get me.