On Sunday afternoon, while Scott and I were painting his bathroom, I got a little woozy from the ammonia in the primer and had to sit down outside the door. I’d finished all the borders — the cutting in, as we professional housepainters say — and Scott was doing the ladder work. Who needs 14 foot ceilings in a bathroom? Mr. Fancy Pants, that’s who.
“Dude, I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” I said, watching Scott lean the ladder, precariously, against the far wall, only two of its four feet on the ground.
“Eh, it’s fine,” he said, climbing up to the second rung. “When I was a kid, I was always doing something stupid, and I’m fine.”
Not half a minute later, I watched in horror as the ladder plummeted twelve feet to the floor, and Scott along with it. Before I could move, he pushed himself off the splintered wooden ladder and staggered toward me, a hand pressed to his chest. He was gasping for breath.
“No! No,” I said, jumping to my feet. “Lay down! Don’t move.”
He ignored me and walked into the hallway, where he finally sat down and let me have a look. His legs were bleeding, shins torn up by the splintered ladder. His head, dotted with paint where it had made a path down the freshly painted wall. It was his chest that tookthe brunt of the fall, hitting the commode on the way down.
“Do we need to go to the hospital?” I could feel my head swimming – from the fumes and the shock.
“No, just let me catch my breath.”
A few minutes later, when it was clear that Scott was not mortally wounded, I sat down next to him and started laughing. Like a crazy woman. I couldn’t help myself. Not that I found the situation at all funny. In fact, my hands were still shaking and my chest hurt from the tension. Maybe it was relief? Maybe it wasthe only way my bizarre little psyche knew how to deal with it was to laugh. And then to force Neosporin and gauze bandages on Scott. And then drag him to my apartment for ice packs, where I could watch him for symptoms of more serious damage. And make him brownies.
Even a crazy woman knows that brownies fix just about anything.
Are medicinal brownies the same as special brownies? Cuz that could account for the hysteria. Kidding. Glad Mr Fancy Schmancy Pants is okay tho. The best part of that story for me was the macho way he stood up and walked around when you told him to stay still. Why do men do that??
I was laughing before I knew he was ok. Is that wrong?
I hope Scott is okay…my stepdad did something similar a few years back. He ended up having a few fractures ribs, and a long bruise line for weeks. Unfortunately, not much can be done for broken ribs. However, if he’s hurting, if might be beneficial for him to go somewhere for more potent forms of medicinal brownies that are white in color and the size of a vitamin (aka Vicodin). Night
Dauntless- That’s because he is a guy and we always laugh when guys do stupid things (especially while doing manly-man home improvement). It makes us feel better and proud that we’re *not* guys.
Oh man! I’m redecorating my room and painting is next… I will be sure to be extra careful with the ladder. I’m glad he’s ok, it could’ve been serious. Now I want a brownie…
based on the title, i was expecting a story about brownies a la alice b. toklas.
Brownies totally fix everything! You need to buy the book “It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken” if only for the “Crack Brownies” recipe they include in there. That recipe alone is totally worth the cost of the book. I brought them to work with me and was instantly forgiven for unexpectedly missing two whole weeks.
Glad Scott is okay!
It’s only hilarious afterwards, and only if nothing is seriously awry. Probably just your adrenalin surge wearing off.
I was powerwashing the house siding a couple years ago, and at the apex of the roof, the aluminum ladder decided that the surface of the vinyl was sufficiently slippery that it was time for me to go for a ride…twenty-five feet later, I was on my side at ground level, spiting out bits of grass. Thank GOD the powerwashing had soaked the ground enough that I just left a man-shaped impression in the ground. All I’d damaged was my dignity.
Yeah, I laughed too…a few hours later.
Indeed. Chocolate cures the vast majority of the world’s ills. Neosporin and vodka-based cocktails can handle the rest.
I’m currently sporting a tremendously ugly black and blue mark on my leg from my falling off the chair while painting incident. All my pantsuits are at the dry cleaner, so The Monster is perfectly visible at all times.
Sadly enough, I’ve had to assure people that the boyfriend I don’t have isn’t beating me up- seriously!
With 14 ft ceilings in the bathroom, how does the fan get any work done? Mr. Fancy-Pants though Scott may be, Texas is the land of chili. I’m just saying.
I had a similar laugh-fit recently at work. Someone in another cubicle said something obnoxious and I tossed a hershey kiss over in his direction. I throw like a girl so I assumed it would just land on the floor in front of him, right? Nope! It arched through the air in slow motion and clocked him on the bridge of his nose right in between his eyes. I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t stop laughing to save my life. I felt bad even though it served him right.
Oh, and if you put a tablespoon of chipotle powder in the brownie mix and serve them with cool whip…awesome! I takes a few bites to get used to the idea and you don’t get the heat until you swallow it so be cautious!
Fish, I hope he got checked out and everything is okay. I’ll hold my laughter in till then.
I’m a laugher too, even at the most inappropriate times. I guess it’s a semi-automatic way of dealing with the tension. Hope Scott’s doing better, you’re a good friend, making him those brownies…
I’m afraid to climb anything taller then a dining room chair AND THIS IS WHY! However, chocolate will cure anything.
My mom used to laugh like that when I would fall off my bike as a little girl and I never got it – until I grew up and now I do the same thing. I think it’s like, laugh or else you start to cry. Ladders are fricking scary – my father was doing something to a tree clearly meant for a landscaper and fell, shattering his glasses and causing a bruise the color of merlot and the size of Kansas on his side. They recently moved to a condo. No more ladders. Glad Scott is OK.
Completely not the brownies I was thinking of….glad Scott is ok!
Somebody needs to get Scott a paint roller with an extra-long handle!
I need brownies today!
It’s true though, brownies comfort every problem!
Next time, add 1-2 tsp of Chipotle chili powder to the dry mix. Trust me on this…you will never make a better batch of medicinal brownies…
Brownies do fix everything. Really, he’s lucky to know you
I haven’t had a brownie in years…something I ought to make for my wife…
Ice cream does a fine job as well. Just scoop the ice cream in a bowl and set it on the boo-boo while eating it. Just as good as ice packs only satisfies tastebuds as well.
Have always been shy of brownies because of unknown additives, but sounds like love and care make the best additives.