How Sickeningly Sweet...

... I was just about to leave for work, when I remembered that it was laundry day, and that I hadn't chucked some clothes in the basket.

I ran back upstairs, crept into our bedroom where Dave was still asleep (he's not back in work till Sunday), grabbed my stuff, gave Dave a quick kiss, went into the spare room and chucked my stuff in the basket, ready for Dave to take to the launderette when he gets up.

So far so good.

I started walking back down the stairs and stood on one of Jasper's stupid, pigging, cuddly toy things, and fell down three steps. Banging my elbow, back and bum.

I screamed a little bit, and sat on the stairs, with my shaking hand over my heart, which was pounding away like a kettle drum.

Dave ran out of the bedroom, half wearing his dressing gown, ran past me on the stairs and bent down, looking directly into my eyes.

It was at that point that I told him to "put that bleeping piece of bleep in the bin". And he laughed and kissed me, saying "Well, at least I know that you're all right."

Pig.