As a footnote (heh heh), yesterday while helping my husband to carry a large, heavy dresser up some stairs, I managed to trip, fall, conk the side of my head against the dresser, bend my new glasses' frame, and knock the lens out of the glasses. (Today I look like a battered woman, with a knot on my temple and a bruise.) My husband immediately assumed I was wearing Birkenstocks, as I have slipped many times on the stairs while wearing them. (Two years ago I slipped on the stairs, while wearing Birks and carrying lentil stew. I landed quite hard and managed to break my coccyx AND redecorate our family room in lentils...to this day I need to sit on padded chairs, plus I haven't made the Dal recipe since...) However, yesterday the Birks were innocent; I was simply being clumsy in my cross-trainers.
It's always something! Sometimes I really have to wonder at my own clumsiness, though. I'm feeling a kinship to Gerald Ford...Can PF cause someone to become a klutz? :>) Only 33 and I feel like I'm not only falling apart, but I'm a menace to myself!!