Making shirts and falling down (not in that order)

First, out with the idiocy: I fell down about three stairs leaving the stadium after the game Saturday. The reason: I was trying not to trip over a kid. I feel like an idiot and my ankle looks like a baseball. The kid looked scared to death. His parents weren't around (!), but I just know, had I fallen toward him, they would've popped up out of nowhere and slapped me with a lawsuit faster than you can say twenty-one-and-oh. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I'd be kicking myself if, well, um, if my foot didn't hurt so bad.

Oh, I made the text for Mom's shirt! That's the pretty pic to your left. I think I might buy one for Dad too. This, of course, means I have to make sure they're going to be at GameDay. I'll figure out a way of tricking them into going. I know Paul and I will be there. We won't have cool shirts though. I mean, I have a cat named Joe but she's not named for Big D, so the closest I can come to Mom's shirt is "I like Joey D. and incidentally have a cat with the same name." Not nearly as catchy.

So Mattie e-mailed this morning -- 8 a.m., so I missed him by about half an hour -- to say he's in Evansville, Ind., and will come down here for a while before he heads home. That's great news -- so great, in fact, that I woke Paul up to tell him and he wasn't even mad at me. As far as houseguests go, Mattie's a fun one. It'll be good to see him one more time before we move.

Okay, I'm off to paint my toenails because my stupid ankle brace (always handy in Clumsy Kate land) won't fit in my tennis shoes and I'm relegated to wearing sandals. Again: stupid stupid stupid.