This morning, I asked David to take out the paper trash. He complained that it was so full that he couldn't possibly manage the task. That's when Mama threw on her cape and came to the rescue.
'Look, David, I'll show you a trick.'
She then put her foot in the paper trash and started crushing the papers down with one shoe. This freed up some space, so she began pushing even harder. This worked so well that she thought it would be beyond brilliance to put both feet in and start frantically jumping up and down. On about the third hop, our flimsy plastic container had apparently had enough fun and sent Angie on a 180 degree flip that ended with her shoulder and head getting a free but unwanted closeup of the floor.
I think I showed great restraint by neither bursting into laughter, nor running for my camera. I even helped her up and asked her if we should go to the clinic, despite the general rule that weekend trips to the emergency room are normally reserved for the kids. Angie has a high tolerance for pain, though, and can be more stubborn than our cat. So, instead of pushing the issue, I retreated to the kitchen, made sure she wasn't within earshot, and laughed my ass off.