White Dog watched in horror as the tangle of Steve, Quinn and I tumbled to the floor. She growled at Quinn blaming him for the accident that left us in a heap this morning. Quinn is a silent underfoot, immediately behind your legs kinda boy. He sneaks up and stands waiting to be noticed; trouble is, sometimes you don't notice him until it is too late and you step on his foot or accidentally bump into him.
This morning Quinn lay in the doorway to the bathroom as I brushed my teeth; I knew he was there. What I didn't notice was when he shifted position to lie directly behind me, back against the open door, legs stretched between my planted feet. I turned and stepped on him, startling him enough so that he jumped up and knocked me off-balance. Steve (in the hall tying his neck wear under White Dog's supervision) saw me stumble and jumped over to grab me. The momentum and Quinn frenzying trying to get out of the way sent us all sprawling. My flailing arm whacked Steve across the face and sent his glasses flying. White Dog stood just out of the fray barking and threatening Quinn as though he had hurt us on purpose.
Once we untangled, we noticed Steve's nose looked a little crooked (and was bloody) and he had the beginnings of a huge bruise across his cheek. Quinn and I were ruffled and more embarrassed at our clumsiness than anything else. White Dog sat at Steve's side as we made an ice pack and stopped the bleeding. At White Dog's insistence we made a "just be sure that nose is not broken" trip to the doctor; it is not (just really swollen)! Tomorrow Steve will face no end of teasing at the office.
PLEASE send special prayers and positive energy over to the sweet Eskie gentleman and band leader, Mack of Mack and Sally Ann. We hear he is not doing well and it sounds pretty serious!