I have disagreements with people all the time. I sometimes have disagreements with inanimate objects.  I would say for the most part I win more of my arguments with objects than I do with people.  There is however one notable exception.

Stairs.  Yes, stairs.  I know of many people that have had disagreements with stairs and lost.  My brother was one of them.  My mother has been falling up stairs for years.  It has been kind of a running joke as most people fall down them but my mother falls up them.  I am sure that is an indicator of something though I’m not quite sure what it is.

Now normally I get along really well with stairs.  Just like a young teenager I bound up them sometimes two steps at a time.  My fast feet allow me to descend them with speed and ease.  That is all well and good unless it is 3:30 am and the stairs are between me and my objective, the bathroom.

I don’t suppose it helped that I was still half asleep or that my comfy socks that I wear to bed are also very slippery.  It also doesn’t help that there is a sharp turn at the top of my stairs that can be challenging to negotiate under perfect circumstances.

All I know is that I slipped, landed on my side, bounced a couple of steps, rolled over and got on my butt, then bounced hitting every single step until I landed on floor below.  I would give myself a three for execution, an eight for recovery, and a nine for overall presentation and comic content.  This is the kind of thing viral videos are made of.  Even after rolling over and sitting up, I was still so slick that I couldn’t stop my momentum.  I had the floor for that. 

If there is any good news, it is that I did not stick out my hands and arms to catch myself.  Whatever you do, never stick out your arm when you fall!  I can’t think of a better way to break or sprain a wrist or even a collar bone.  It happens all the time.

So two days later I am walking a little more gingerly as a have a bruise on my left leg and on my right arm where I initially landed.  My butt you ask?  Surprisingly all the cycling, dancing and walking I do has given me a butt of steel; no damage or soreness what so ever.

I could come up with a few different morals to this story:

1. Slippery socks and stairs don’t mix
2. Use the handrails
3. There is no substitute for being in shape and having good bone density as you age

And last but not least, disagreeing with the stairs is a bad ideal.  The stairs will win that argument every time.