"No wonder I squeaked at U when he cuddled up to me last night!" I thought to myself.
After my shower I walked into the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. Intent on my drink I wasn't watching where I was going and bashed into the dining table.
"Ouch!" I said to myself and rubbed my thigh, "I'm going to have a brui- ahhH!" Cartoon style, a light bulb had gone off over my head. It sure has taken me long enough to finally realize where the nearly constant bruises on the exact same spot on each thigh have come from.
Maybe it is about time I invested in rubber corners or some sort of padding for the edges of the dining table?