Welcome home

I knew, when I saw the dog sailing down the apartment's front steps, that they were clearly a bit icy. I knew this, and was sure to take my steps one at a time: one foot, two foot, down to next step; one foot, two foot, down to next step. But even with my careful and considered deliberation, and specific stepping, the ice took my legs out from under me, and I ended up bouncing down the stairs, too.
This is the second time this has happened to me since we moved into this place. (Last year's incident was worse, as the slip occurred closer to the top of the stairway, and Oliver had bypassed the ice patch, so I was not at all prepared for it.) Still, today, I'll have a sexy bruise on my butt by the time I get home. The fun, you see, is that the pain is in such a place that I can't sit in one position for too long before my butt starts to ache. Cripes. This sucks.
As I sat there, at the bottom of my stairs getting my breath back, all I could think about was how, this past weekend, I wore flip flops.

UPDATE: I have since looked at my butt, and there is a huge (no relation to the butt size), dark purple bruise spreading across it. This could be the grossest and biggest bruise I've ever had, in my entire life. Nasty. Amy said I couldn't post a picture of it on the blog, but I just might anyway.