Honest Officer, I didn't push him!

Some time after I blogged last night, I was sitting in the kitchen when I heard a commotion. I will try to describe what I heard:

da dum, da dum, da dum, da dum, da dum, da dum, "!@$^))((*&&^%%$$&#@!&^%$#@(&%!!!"

This was the sound of Rhett walking down our unlit hard-wood staircase in socks, slipping on the top step, falling to the bottom, then letting out a string of expletives that would have made even The Future Mrs. Darcy blush. He busted up his heel and ankle and blood was pouring from his elbow.

Today he remains upstairs, while I cater to his every whim.
"Scarlett, could you bring me some coffee?"
"Scarlett, I'd like a bagel with cream cheese?"
"Scarlett, I need some ibuprofen. Could you get it?"

Rhett now refers to the house as a death trap.

-Scarlett