The Hairdryer Ate My Hair

Yes the hairdryer ate my hair. The few times I treat myself to a blowout and I lose a clump of hair. Woe is me. Haha. The art of being clumsy.

There was that time at a store opening in Tagaytay. The store featured Christmas decor and there were so many people milling about and so little space. And so many cute little things to buy and bump into.

C was in the washroom when I dropped a box of spoons and forks. It fell to the floor in a loud thud. Thankfully the box didn't spill out its contents or else it would've been a thud and a splatter.

When C came out (and the box had been put back in its place and I had decided to just sit it out on a big sofa far from anything I might topple over), he told me that when he heard the loud thud, his immediate thought was that it was me. Hahaha. Talk about really knowing your spouse, eh?

I'm clumsy and absentminded enough that every time I step out of the car, C has to say "watch your head". Because, yes, we've lost count of the times I've bumped my head or bruised my shin as I'm getting out of the car. I also bump my head on the wall while leaning back in bed.

And how many times have I hit my forehead on a store glass window while leaning forward, totally mesmerized with merchandise on display. It's insane.

Haha. That's that for clumsy today.