My life is beginning to seem like a semi-comic soap opera. The latest tragedy is I broke a tooth in half, one close to the front. It was because of a hard piece of candy: cinnamon in case you’re wondering. I’ll call my dentist on Monday if I haven’t broken a leg by then. I stayed in yesterday so I wasn’t locked out of the house.

When I was a kid, I broke one bone, my wrist, when I was five. About ten years ago I fell off a step ladder and broke bones in my shoulder (yup, a ladder again). Another time I fell off the side of the back steps, which are as high as my second floor. They didn’t have a rail. I stepped on something I couldn’t see in the dark and over I went. I knocked myself out, but I don’t know for how long. I was the only one there. I did get a sprained ankle once. It had to do with a mat and the front steps. The only car accident I’ve had was when I hit a small parking pole in the hospital parking lot. Going home I could only take rights. I did get a leg burn from my motorcycle pipe because the goats quickly changed direction and ran into me. I had stopped so they could pass. My sisters think I’m like my dad who was accident prone. There might be some truth in that, but I’ve had fewer home accidents, and I can wield a knife without cutting myself. Not once have I stuck my fingers in a whirring fan or sawed myself out of a tree. Mine are more antics than accidents.

I have to admit, though, that I am wary.