…things can go incredibly wrong. You could end up needing stitches and a lot of body work in the small span of a mere forty-eight hours like I did.

I blame it on hormones and the copious amounts of hair that sprout in the most unwelcome places. Yes, who would have thought that plucking a couple of rogue upper lip hairs would result in a two-inch gash on the back of my head and a hole the size of a baby hippopotamus in the side of our Toyota Land Cruiser.

Fortunately, one had nothing to do with the other – not directly. My thankfully brief hospital stay resulted from being whisked off in an ambulance when paramedics answered my distress call after this ladder

saw  fit to slip off the edge of my daughter’s platform bed with me on it – nasty spill –  narrowly missed clunking my bean on the desk before cracking it on the floor. I must add though that there is something to be said about man’s best friend in a pinch – Lucy and Jazzie bolted up the stairs to my rescue, but being fingerless, they settled for lapping up the small puddle of A+ I had left behind while I called Germany’s equivalent of 911. How else do you get the undivided attention of four gorgeous, hunkie, chisel-abbed young men when your husband is away? Although, I still wouldn’t recommend it. I could just as well have ended up with one ugly a$$ funeral director.

The really bizarre thing though, was that just twenty-four hours before this incident, I’d had a run in with a most villainous fork-lift. Like a giant can opener, it took to our truck with a vengeance and performed an emergency cesarean on it. Just like that – out of the blue. I’d half expected a small tribe of little green vehicles to tumble from the gaping hole.

Can you imagine?

So, was it fate, bad luck, or just me being a klutz? I wonder…had I allowed nature to take its course and left just two hairs under my nose to grow at will, would I have been better able to judge the width of the construction site I so carefully squeezed through at a pace that left no room for error drove through? It works for cats, after all. They use their whiskers to assess “the precise width of any passage.“

No. If I am honest with myself, I know I’d do it again. I really don’t think facial hair suits me very well.

Don’t you agree?

Today’s post is in answer to the Daily Post’s Weekly Challenge: Backward. You still have time to put in your two cents, or rather, your ten bucks worth – alas, nothing is left untouched by inflation.