I hate wearing socks and here's why...

Well, I'm normally a flip flop kind of girl, but due to the weather I've been forced to wear real shoes. And this requires the wearing of socks. So, this past Friday night, after getting our house guests settled into their sleeping arrangements, we headed down the stairs to retire for the evening. This is when it became quite clear to me that socks and stairs can make for a very dangerous combination. Yes, you quessed it! My socked foot slipped off a step and I made my way down the rest of the steps by way of my ass. When I finally reached the bottom of the stairs, I sat there for a moment stunned and trying to determine if I might cry. My butt was in a good bit of pain and I nearly pulled my arm out of the socket trying to catch myself by grabbing the railing. B, who was coming down the stairs behind me at the time, was stunned as well, and rushed to my side to see if I was alright. After wimpering for a few moments, I got up, assured him I was fine, and we continued off to bed. About 5 minute later, I was in the bathroom washing my face for bed, and I started cracking up laughing. Now that the pain was starting to wear off, I was picturing the fall in my head and was finding it quite hilarious and, frankly, I was sorry I didn't get to see it happen myself.