Sandy staggered home very late after an evening drinking with her girlfriends. She took off her shoes to avoid waking up her husband, Sam.
She tiptoed as quietly as she could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As she caught herself by grabbing the banister, her body swung around and she landed heavily on her bottom. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Sandy sprung up, pulled down her pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that her bottom cheeks were cut and bleeding. She managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best as she could on each place she saw blood.
She then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled her way to bed.
In the morning, Sandy woke up with searing pain in both her head and bottom and Sam staring at her from across the room.
He said, ‘You were drunk again last night, weren’t you?’
Sandy said, ‘Why would you say such a mean thing?’
‘Well,’ Sam said, ‘it could be the open front door…or it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs or it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house or it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly…it’s all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.
I know that Matthew’s next words would have been ‘now roll over and let me see how badly your bottom is hurt before…’
If you had pulled something like this, what response would you have received? LOL