The evolution of a clutz

I am a clutz. I own it though. I have to. That's not something you can really hide. How long have I been living with this afliction you ask? Well peeps, my whole life. Don't believe me? Well, let me break it down for you. Here is the evolution of my rise to clutziness:

April 22, 1974: The day I was born. That in itself is not that big a deal. Women have given birth for years. This was no ordinary birth my friends. You see, at the last minute I decided to spin around and come out of my mother telling the world to KISS MY ASS! That's right, my poor mother crapped me out while I was in the "Pike Position". Nice huh? And, she did it with NO EPIDURAL. I think she's still pissed at me to this day.

1976/1977: While standing on top of my vaccuum pretending it was a microphone and doing my best Stevie Nicks impersonation I fell face first onto the ground and killed my front baby tooth. It turned brown and stayed like that for years until it finally fell out. I switched from upright vaccuums to canister vacs for my microphone choice shortly thereafter.

Summer, 1982: Finally able to "pop a wheelie" on my sweet bike. I had been working on that move for a long time. There I was, coasting down the street on one wheel having the time of my life. Then the handle bars started going all screwy and next thing I know I'm falling head first over the handlebars, landing on my ass in the middle of the street and my face smacked the blacktop. Killed the adult version of the same baby tooth mentioned above. Didn't necessarily turn brown, but it just hung out in my head with a crack in it until I got that bitch crowned when I was an adult.

4th grade, 1984: Spending the night at my friends house we decided to sew Brownie outfits for our Barbies. I'm crawling around on my knees looking for thread when I put my knee down on a thimble. It hurt like a bitch but I didn't think anything about it. The next day it still hurt and my dad, being the loving overprotective father that he is said, "Suck it up and walk it off, you're fine!" So I did, I had no choice. When it STILL hurt a couple months later he finally took me to the doctor for some x-rays. Yeah, I had a fucking SEWING NEEDLE stuck in my knee! I had to have that bitch surgically removed. My dad still feels guilty. *smirk*

April 22, 1985: My 11th birthday. I'm at my best friend Alice's house wearing my brand new birthday outfit that DIDN'T come from K-mart. I'm thinking my shit don't stink I look so cute. Me and Alice were going to make ourselves a sandwhich, sounds innocent enough right? Well, I went to shake up the mustard when I discovered too late that her a-hole brother didn't screw the lid on. Friggen mustard ALL OVER MY NEW OUTFIT THAT DIDN'T COME FROM K-MART! I cried. Then I had to go home and change into an outfit that did, in fact come from K-mart.

Halloween, 1987: We have a Haloween dance at school. I'm in 7th grade and, well, ok, I went through a phase where I really wanted to be a cheerleader. Please don't judge me. The girl who used to baby sit me was in highschool AND a cheerleader so she let me and Alice borrow her cheer outfits. Cool right? Yep...except she had two outfits BUT only one pair of those little undergarmet things. You know what I'm talking about right? Those little numbers you wear under the skirt so you can high kick to your hearts content and not show your actual panties? Well, as usual Alice called dibs on the panty-things and I got screwed. I realized how screwed I really was when I was running around outside, tripped and fell on my ass and the skirt flew up. Good time, good times.

Summer, 1989: My first road trip without mom and dad. The same former babysitter above was now dating Alice's a-hole brother (he was an a-hole, trust me). They decided to go on a road trip to Washington State and I got to come along. Yay for me!! This particular summer a new shoe fad was going around called "Chooze Shoes". Remember those deathtraps? They were a piece of slick plastic sole and you would thread shoe laces in any color you wanted through them to make them a sort of flip flop contraption that would wind up your ankle. Those bastards were slippery! Well, we went to some museum in Seattle. The exit was a steep staircase than ended on the sidewalk outside the museum. So of course I would take one step, lose my footing and slide down the rest of the staircase on my ass and land on the sidewalk. I have to give myself credit though. Everyone around was totally freaked out that I hurt myself and I just got up and took a bow. It was that or cry man!

Sometime in 1991 or 1992: I caught my arm on fire, fell down a flight of concrete apartment stairs, and made out with a dude wtih the roughest 5 O'clock shadow until my chin was raw and bloodied. We call that one the "Tom Chin Incident". Never accidently spill Jim Beam on your sweater and then bend face first into a Zippo trying to light your cig.

Fast forward to July 4, 1996: I'm about 18 months pregnant with my first child. We're at the outlaws having a birthday party for the hubs. I go to lower my huge body into one of those piece of shit resin chairs when it decided to buckle and tip over backwards with me in it. Thankfully I didn't break anything or anyone. It was funny to me...probably because everyone looked to horrified. They were so freaked out!! LMAO

June/July 2000: We take the kids camping in Bodega Bay. My son is just a baby at the time. At night we would turn on the car and put him in the carseat with the heater on until he fell asleep. I'm sitting in the front seat with the window down and I have my arm out the window. I might've been a tad-martin tipsy, who knows. Anyhoo, I ended up rolling the window up completely with my hand stuck in the window. I have no idea how I managed that one but my husband still laughs to this day when ever he thinks about it.

I don't know, 2002, 2003: It's my dad's birthday so I invite him and my would-be Evil Stepmother over for dinner. Everything started out well enough. We were bull-shitting, drinking wine and whatnot. I was making a salad and went to put the dressing on it. Well, I have this thing with shaking shit..I do it to everything. I shook the bottle of salad dressing not remember that I just did that and undid the lid. This was worse than the mustard incident of 1985, WAY worse. That shit was a full bottle and it went all the hell over me! From my face to my feet. I thought my dad and evil step mom was going to shit themselves they were laughing so hard!! To this day I'll be visiting them and out of nowhere she'll giggle because it pops into her head. Glad I'm here to amuse you Evil Stepmom!

Sometime last year: I try to be cool at work. I mean, I AM cool, don't get me wrong, but I try to be extra careful so shit won't happen to me during working hours. This particular day my co-worker and myself had to go out for something so we got to take one of the work trucks. I don't drive at all if I can get away with it so she said that she would drive. The truck was parked next to this dirt mountain kind of on an incline. The passenger side door was next to the mountain. Instead of having her pull away and then get in, I figured I could just stand on the side of the montain, open the door and climb in. Well, a normal person would've had no problem with that. But not me. No, I lost my footing and in an effort to keep from falling I grab the sideview mirror. It was too late though. My feet kept slipping and slipping and I finally lost my grip on the mirror, fell and slid UNDER the freakin truck! The whole time this is happening my coworker is watching from the drivers side laughing her ass off! It was pretty gosh darn funny I'll admit that!

So there you have it. I know there must be more but thankfully I've blocked them out. Funny thing is that I see some of my "gracefullness" shining in my daughter. So my legacy will live on!!