Anyway, I had moved the old chair into a little alcove thingy in my entry way. It is a bit big for the spot but I kinda like it. It does stick out of the alcove a bit though (<---important information for later).
So last night I go downstairs to turn off all the lights. It's about 1am and pitch dark. I'm not scared, however, because I know every inch of this house. Helen Keller herself couldn't do a better job navigating around here at night than I.
But I had forgotten about that dang chair...
(plzthanks ignore chipped toenail polish, cracked cuticles, dry feet skin, overall grossness of my feet, etc)
Due to the fact that it was the middle of the night and I didn't want to wake everyone up, all I could do is stand there, doubled over in agony, leaning against the stair banister, biting my knuckle to stifle my screams. I was sure that when I looked at it in the light I would be down one toenail but luckily they all survived.
I no longer think this joke is funny:
Q: How did Helen Keller's parents punish her?
A: They rearranged the furniture.