Damn picture frames.

My poor children have been blessed with my wicked skills of self injury. It runs in the family. My brother once got a Lego stuck so far up his nose, he had to go to the ER to have it removed. He also smacked his face into a brick wall and had to get stitched on his upper lip. This was after I nailed him in the eye with a baseball bat. DUDE! He walked up behind me as I was swinging, it was an accident. I swears.

As a kid, I choked on two Hungry Hungry Hippo marbles while roller skating in our basement. My dad did the Heimlich on me and instead of coming up, they went down. The xrays showed them in my stomach and they needed to come out by way of the Hersey highway. I also choked on tootsie candy thing and my dad did the Heimlich on me then, too.

Recently, I was mad at Ava, for God knows what, and started to run up the stairs, tripped on my sweatpants (that I was wearing) and fell down the stairs. Ava started laughing so hard she nearly peed herself. Yes, she's totally my child. My kids fall a lot. There's always someone complaining about some kind of accidental self injury in our house.

So, it shouldn't have surprised me when I hit my forehead on a picture hanging on the wall. I bent over to pick something off the floor (probably kid related), came up and the corner of the picture frame pile drove itself into my forehead. For a second there, I thought I was going to die. I actually had to sit down for that one and breath like I was in labor. YOU KNOW what kind of pain I'm talking about.

It was a good way to start out the new year. Fucking picture frame.