For Crying Out Loud

And I have cried today. While I was doing Valentine's Day, people were creating dirty laundry, a lot.
This afternoon I was going down the steps, talking to Max about how I finally finished the book I was writing, "How to Docent at the Lynden Pioneer Museum"(promises to be a bestseller), when my feet flew out and I slammed(SLAMMED) down the steps on my bum. Not good. I don't think anything is broken but my tush is screaming in pain. You know, instant tears, shaking, and nausea. The hubby came home shortly after the fact and after I was on the couch on ice, this is some of what I had to listen to. Not necessarily in order.
*Max-Good thing I was here or you'd be needing Life Alert.
*Max- Did you break your hip? Because if you did, that is it you know. All downhill.
*Max- I'm not looking.
*Hubby-So, did you run to help her.
*Max-Well, yea, um, I knew she did more than just drop the phone.
*Hubby- Do you think we'll have to put her down?
*Max- If we put her down, I get her bed.
*Hubby- Um, no Max, I'm still here. It's my bed too.
*Hubby- I'll look...that is looking to be a big bruise and scrape. Do you want a bandaid?
Now whenever Max goes down the steps he makes the "noise" that I apparently made as this all transpired.
For crying out loud.
Edit: Saturday. Max says he feels like a hockey coach today. He keeps telling me, "get your butt on the ice." I'm OK, really.