A Bumpy Entry
Bob fumbled with his keys for what felt like an eternity before finally making it inside. As he attempted his stealthy ascent up the stairs, his coordination betrayed him. Halfway up, he misjudged a step and went tumbling backward with a thunderous crash.
To make matters worse, the two miniature whiskey bottles he had tucked into his back pockets shattered on impact. The sharp shards and sticky liquor left his trousers in ruins and added a few stinging cuts to his list of troubles.
Band-Aids Gone Rogue
Determined not to wake Kathleen, Bob crawled to the hallway mirror to survey the damage. The reflection wasn’t promising: small cuts and smears of blood covered his back. But Bob, ever the problem-solver, grabbed a box of Band-Aids from a nearby cabinet.
What followed was a comedy of drunken logic. Unable to see his wounds properly, Bob began sticking Band-Aids onto what he assumed were the injured spots. His aim, however, left much to be desired. By the time he was done, the mirror was adorned with a patchwork of Band-Aids, while his actual cuts remained untouched.
Satisfied with his handiwork, Bob stumbled to bed, blissfully unaware of the chaos he had left behind.
The Morning After
Bob awoke to Kathleen standing over him, arms crossed and an amused smirk on her face. “Rough night, was it?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Feigning innocence, Bob replied, “What makes you say that?”
Kathleen raised an eyebrow. “Oh, let’s see… the broken glass on the stairs, the blood trail to the hallway, or the Band-Aids decorating the mirror instead of your wounds?”
Bob groaned as fragmented memories of the night came rushing back. “I was just trying to fix myself up,” he mumbled.
“And,” Kathleen added with a grin, “who in their right mind keeps whiskey in their back pockets? Honestly, Bob, you practically set yourself up for disaster!”
Laughter Over Lessons
Despite her exasperation, Kathleen couldn’t stay mad for long. Bob’s antics, while absurd, never failed to entertain. Soon, they were both laughing as they cleaned up the aftermath of his escapade.
“Next time,” Kathleen teased, “leave the whiskey at the bar. Or at least leave the stairs alone!”
Bob grinned sheepishly, already plotting a more graceful return on his next night out.
A Tale for the Ages
What started as a whiskey-fueled fiasco became one of their favorite stories to share with friends and family. While Bob may have lost the battle with the staircase and the Band-Aids, he gained a tale that would keep Kathleen—and everyone else—laughing for years to come.
