You know, I think God may have a sense of humor after all.
I have a huge bed. It's one of those massive faux-Oriental king-sized beds with a six-foot headboard and drawers and storage underneath. I love my bed--it's comfortable, I can stretch out in it, and if I shut the drawer I can keep the cats out of the bedroom.
Except for two. My cat Pixie just had a litter of kittens, of which only one survived. I named her Asphodel (yeah, you'd be using these names too if you had to keep creating new ones every day) and she and her mother live in the bedroom until the kitten is big enough to fend for herself. Every once in a while I let the bigger cats in to get them acquainted.
So, at any rate, one of the big cats swatted at the kitten. I lunged for the cat, not even thinking about how high up I was, the featherbed slipped sideways and I landed hard on the floor.
Hard.
To cap matters off, I hit my ankle on the corner of the marble-topped pedestal I use as a bedside table and cracked it off. The first thing I see when I lift my head is the kitten staring at me with a look on her face like "Why in the hell did you do that, you stupid human?" I was asking myself the same thing.
So why do I think this is indicative of the divine sense of humor? Let me put it to you this way: I don't think I've ever been this colorful in my life. There are, at the moment, seven different colors on my ankle, which is swollen and really really ugly. That doesn't even mention my shoulder and hip. We are not pleased with this turn of events, mostly because tonight I am in a wedding.
No, not mine.
I am (blech!) a bridesmaid. Sleeveless dress, hits just about the ankle, with strappy little high heeled shoes.........
Someone shoot me, please. Maybe God will think that's funny too.
