[ kluhts ]
There you have it. Just in case you weren't familiar with the term, "Klutz", there is the official definition. And, I don't know this for certain, but it's possible, that if you look the word up in certain dictionaries, it shows a photo of me.
I cannot deny it. It's true. It must be typed right on my DNA because from the very beginning of my life, if there was something to drop, or bang into, or trip over (and sometimes even if there wasn't anything visible to the eye to trip over), I was the person who did it. Yup, it was me.
My parents tried to help me, they did, bless their hearts. The only thing they could think of, other than creating a padded outfit for me to wear, was to enroll me in ballet class. I actually loved the class. I loved the music, the pretty little pink tutu and even the exercises. The problem was that I, ummm how do I say this politely? I sucked at it. I did. While the other little girls gracefully glided across the floor, I lumbered much like an ox or perhaps a bear. My classmates smoothly and delicately floated their arms from one position to another. I accidentally smacked the person next to me in the face. Ballerinas did pretty little jumps that were gazelle-like. I stumbled and tripped and crashed into the mirrors. sigh. The saying in our house was that I was capable of tripping over the colours in a rug.
Eventually I learned to live with my own clumsiness. It was just another Sam-fact. I have blue eyes, I love to read, I am clumsy. Just another thing on the list. On the plus side, I will say that because I am so very accident prone, I have developed great reflexes. I may bumble and fumble and drop or nearly drop an item, but very often I can also catch it before it hits the floor (or counter top or whatever). When I stumble or trip, I usually can right myself. It's not graceful or pretty, but I rarely hit the ground. Because I have made a tremendous effort to do so, I have become much better about being aware of my surroundings and as a result, almost never walk into posts or poles or other solid objects anymore! Rather proud of that.
But there are those other times of course when the cup or plate does smash into a zillion irretrievable pieces, or cake does smush into oblivion on the floor or I do carry the bruise(s) from smacking into the coffee table or door frame on my way past. It happens. Tim is so accustomed to hearing it from his office at this point that upon hearing a crash or a thump he only calls out, "everything ok?" and if I said "Yup" (which is the usual) that is the end of things. He no longer races out, heart pounding, to come to the rescue. But then, we've been married a long time. :)
But I outdid myself recently. Something Klutz related but new has been added to my repertoire. How exciting.
I was ironing. Not an unusual occurrence for me. I've done it a zillion or so times and with only very minor burns as a result. Normally, twice a week I tackle the pile so as to keep it manageable. Normally I have the TV on while I iron but this time, it was such a small pile that I didn't bother. I did, however, have to keep at least half an eye on the kittyboys as they think that the dancing ironing cord is the most fascinating thing ever and I didn't want them pulling the iron down on top of themselves. So I suppose I was a little bit distracted. But I do not blame them. At all. No this was all on me.
I had just finished up a pair of slacks and was about to move on to a blouse. I settled the blouse into the position I wanted on the ironing board and I reached for the iron, while also checking to see where those cat-rascals were and somehow, instead of grasping the iron, I merely poked the iron with my finger tips.
Can you picture that? Here I am thinking that I am going to be grabbing the iron handle, but instead I completely miss the handle and my fingers, with the same amount of force necessary to grasp the handle, poked iron just above the handle.
As a result, I essentially pushed the iron off the ironing board and onto the floor. Well not the actual tile floor but the area rug on the tile floor. Dang. I couldn't even use my super powers of clumsy recovery becoz I was on the wrong side of the ironing board!
I gasped in horror, raced around the board and picked the iron up but, alas, it was too late.
There is now an iron shaped impression permanently imprinted into our area rug damnit. An impression that cannot be fluffed out.. You know what I mean, if a piece of furniture - say a chair leg - were to sit for any period of time on a rug and you decide to move the chair, there remains an impression of that chair leg in the rug even after the chair is no longer there. But if you fluff it a bit, rake the area with your finger tips and vacuum it in multiple directions, usually the impression disappears. This one ain't goin' nowhere.
I stood there, iron in hand, looking at the damaged carpet and then looked at the iron. It was as bad as the carpet.
Initially I thought the iron could be saved. I waited until it cooled and then using a scrubbie worked for quite some time on it but alas. It could not be salvaged.
Eventually Tim poked his head out of the office and I told him what happened. He looked at the rug and said that if it bothered me, he would turn the rug so that the ironed part was under the sofa. But that he agreed, the iron was toast and he returned to his office to order me a new one.
This is the thing about us Klutzes. We don't mean to be, but we can be expensive to have around. It helps if the people in our lives understand that we cannot help being the way we are. Most of us really and truly, genuinely and honestly, do take great efforts to NOT drop, crash into, trip, break. We do! I use two hands to hold anything breakable, I try to move slowly, carefully and purposefully, to be ever vigilant! But still, things happen.
If you have a Klutz in your family, you understand. And I know it's hard being the person witnessing the destruction and disaster that follows in our wake. But I guarantee you, it's even harder being the person who caused it. This is just a little plea for understanding ;) If you like, you can consider this a Public Service Announcement. I will gladly serve as the poster child for kultz's anonymous. Although, come to think of it, if I'm the poster child, I'm no longer anonymous am I. Well you know what I mean.
Have a terrific rest of this year if you please. There are only a few days left and then suddenly it'll be 2024! Be safe and have fun and be kind to the klutzes in your life :)
Yup, this is me. Some people said, "Sam, you should write a Blog". "Well, there's a thought", I thought to myself. And so here it is.