Holy crap you guys I might have topped the hand stuck in the book return incident for pure stupid while in a public place.
It all happened after a perfectly lovely half hour at Pei Wei, spent eating lettuce wraps and reading an remarkably prescient paper from 2008 about New York City's vulnerability to storm surge. It was time to go pick up Wes and James from preschool so I refilled my cup with the green tea I tell myself is decaf, sneaked four fortune cookies out of the bowl and headed for the door.
Even though I have a purse and I had it with me, I was juggling in my hands four fortune cookies, my phone, my keys, a straw, and my drink. I turned on a heel and strided across the dining room toward the door aaaannnnndddd then I tripped... over something?
I got my other foot out in front and thought I was going to make it for one wonderful millisecond. Instead I cracked the shit out of my sternum on the corner of a chair before landing hard on my left knee. My drink, fortune cookies, phone, keys, and MOST OF MY UPPER BODY came to rest on a table occupied by two nice ladies enjoying their lunch.
I froze for a moment, stunned, while one of the ladies stood, flagged down a bus boy, and complained loudly "YOU NEED TO FIX THOSE TABLE LEGS. JUST LOOK AT WHAT HAPPENED!! I TRIPPED TOO!"
After apologizing profusely, I gathered myself (and all of my stuff) as quickly as I could and turned around to see that the legs of the tables were sticking a good six inches out from the table tops all the way down the aisle. Somewhat relieved that this wasn't just a case of a flip flop gone rogue, I nevertheless wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.
The lady was still yelling at the bus boy as I limped as quickly as possible to my car, deflecting well-meaning bystanders all the way. I closed the door and screamed "WHAT THE EFF?!!" before bursting into tears. Because holy cow my chest hurt. So did my foot, knee, back, and pelvis.
I inspected it in the mirror and it was bright red and very tender to the touch. I couldn't really pull it together enough to call the preschool and tell them I was running late, so I took some deep breaths and drove there, attempted to calm down for a few more minutes in the parking lot, then avoided eye contact with everyone as I walked to the building.
Once we were back in the car I buckled the kids in and gave them fortune cookies so I could call Ryan and freaking lose my everloving mind on the phone. He repeated calmly "Call the OB. Call the OB. Call the OB." until I stopped blubbering and said I would, then asked me to call him back.
Thankfully, probably due to all that "decaf" tea I'd consumed, Baby Girl was dancing around like Wes during the doxology (so inappropriate), so that reassured me through many awful what-if scenarios, most of which involved scenes from Downton Abbey minus the loyal servants and charming lord of the castle. The doctor talked me down by saying unless I'd actually landed on my belly, everything would be fine. Well, thank goodness for that table that got in the way, amirite?!! WAY TO TAKE ONE FOR THE TEAM, STERNUM!!
Nevertheless, I declared it lying down time for all of us as soon as we got home. Mostly because my entire chest still hurts if I move around too much. We all had grilled cheese and canned soup for dinner and then I got in bed right after kid bedtime. Ryan is quite concerned and is doing laundry between trips upstairs to refill my water glass and offer me snacks. He does make a good Lord Grantham.