Graceful, I am not.

If you were curious how my morning started, it went a little like this:


Looked in my closet, saw my favorite black pencil skirt. Said skirt has a pretty stretchy waist band, so I wanted to wear it before I a) got too big to wear it, and b) it got too cold outside to want to wear it.


As I walked downstairs, I noticed my black dress maternity pants on the pile of laundry in the living room (it was a lazy Sunday, sue me). I thought to myself "this skirt really is getting a little snug, it's probably best to just put on the pants". But seeing as I was already running about 5 minutes behind, I decided to just go with what I had on.


Fast forward to arriving at work...


I had stopped at McDonald's to grab breakfast for Kate & I. I got out of the car, put the office work bag over one shoulder, my purse over the other, had my umbrella in one hand, and a drink tray with a McDonald's bag on top in the other hand. I started walking down the parking garage ramp, when all of a sudden I felt my foot giving out on the wet, oil-slicked pavement. My first reaction was "save the McDonald's!" so as my foot slid, I bent it back, and underneath me to break my fall. I landed fairly lightly on top of my right leg as my left leg slid out to the side, and that's when I heard it...


"Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiippppppppppppppppppp"


I carefully stood back up (hands still full and no spillage of McDonald's mind you!), and started to continue my walk towards the office, when I realized that my leg was black and scratched from ankle to knee, and I was feeling quite the breeze on my behind.


I must add in, that all the while this was happening, two men smoking in the smokers corner of the parking garage witnessed my graceful decent to the floor, and didn't even so much as call out to see if I was ok. Jerks.

So I tried to cover my behind with my hand and walk back up the ramp to my car, which is when I realized that my skirt had ripped clear from the bottom of the slit, straight up to the bottom of the zipper...completely exposing my buns and my underwear.

My immediate first thought was "I didn't bring any back-up pants!" and my immediate second thought was "Thank God I didn't wear a thong today!".

So needless to say, I had to hop back in the car and go home to wash off my dirty leg, and change into pants.

Clearly God was telling me that the baby did not want to wear that skirt, today. Or ever again for that matter. Skirt in trash. Lesson learned.