Did I tell you guys that I fell down? Yeah, ouch. Here’s the story, as excerpted from an e-mail to my brother:

Happy spent the night at my place last night, and when I took her out to pee at about midnight, I took a fall on my stairs. It was very foggy and the steps and rails were wet. I slipped about half way down, but grabbed the rail with my right hand. Wound up on my knees, facing the rail, and holding Happy’s leash in my left hand.

It took me a minute or so to get my feet back under me and pull myself up, all the while talking to Happy so she wouldn’t freak out. Thank God I had the leash around my wrist, or she would’ve been long gone.

I’ve got a couple of very minor abrasions, but I’m fine. Happy never knew anything was wrong, except that I was being stupid, trying to lay down on the stairs. I’ve been wondering for almost five years when those damn stairs were going to come for my ass, and hoping it wouldn’t be when I was carrying Tasha.