My wife was in the kitchen, looking for a lost item of some sort, and she called me in to help with the search.
I’ve forgotten what it was she was looking for, exactly. What I do remember is that I rushed in, with my eyes searching across our cluttered counter tops, looking for whatever it was.
That’s why I didn’t see the ice cube sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor until it was too late. I stepped directly onto it with my right foot, dead center. My leg flew out in front of me, like I was kicking a soccer ball, and down I went. Luckily I managed to land without hurting myself. “What was that doing there?” I asked, as I picked myself up off the floor. “Who left an ice cube in the middle of the kitchen floor?”
“Oh that,” Cheryl replied. “I, uh, guess I forgot to pick that up.” She tried unsuccessfully to stifle her laughter.
“Oh that’s funny. I could have been injured,” I grumbled.
“Yeah. Uh, sorry about that,” she said.
She wasn’t sorry, though. She clearly found the whole thing immensely entertaining.
I have to admit, when I think about the way my leg flew up into the air… okay, I guess it was pretty funny. Still, though, I feel lucky not to have pulled a muscle or something.