I may not have mentioned this before, but I am a really clumsy person.
I promise you: If there is something on the floor, I will trip over it; if there is a wall, I will walk into it.
As of late I’ve taken to yelling “Mazel Tov!” or “Opa!” when I break a glass. That way, an everyday accident becomes a celebration!
Beyond keeping the house stocked with ice packs and Band-Aids, clumsy people have other things to worry about. For example, I would never feel right naming my future kid “Grace,” although I think it’s a beautiful name. I read Freakonomics. And I know what genetics can do.
In any case, here’s what drives me (and I gather other similarly klutzy people) nuts – when people say "Careful!” right after one of my incidents.
Now, is this meant to say, “You shouldn’t break that stuff.”?
If so, my response is, “You’re so right! It was stupid of me to purposefully drop that antique vase on the floor!” (By the by, I should note that because of my lack of hand/eye coordination, I try to be very mindful of other people’s stuff. I ask someone else to carry my friend’s antique china. Drinking red wine over a white rug in polite company is a forever no-no. If I’m babysitting, I make sure the room has very thick carpet.)
Or, is it meant to say, “You might try being careful.”?
If so, my response is, “I never explored that as an option. Tell me more about this ‘being careful.’ It seems all the cool kids are doing it.”
Or, is it meant to say, “Oh, careful! You’ll hurt yourself.”?
If so, my response is, “Really? I never knew that’s how I got so many bruises! You’re a genius! (Pulling out shards of glass from my hand.)”
I suppose I’ll never know.