Charlene was getting dressed for work.  She surveyed her clothing options in the closet.

I was rushing around to get ready.  Hurrying out of the bathroom, I had a half baked plan.  Take off my PJ bottoms, fling them into the hamper, race into the closet, get some clothes, and done.  Good plan, but as always, execution is everything.

As I peeled off my PJs, I was mid-stride.  Mid-stride translating into a foot getting stuck on my PJ bottoms.  Translating into me tripping myself with my PJs around my ankles.  Translating into me falling head first by the closet.  Translating into Charlene seeing me plummet bare bottomed by the closet.  Translating into gravity taking control.

Thankfully, today was not my day to say goodbye, as I caught myself on the edge of the bed.  Inches from the wooden edge of the chest at the end of the bed.  The chest containing sheets.  The chest which almost killed me.

Realizing that I was safe, Charlene smiled through tears of laughter and relief, as I pulled my PJs back to full height.

Yes, that was a close one.  Yes, that was not the way I wanted to die.