Why I'll Never Mop Again

Last night I was enjoying the heck out of freshly mopped floors, when they are super scrubbed clean and smooth and silky and I love to walk barefoot across them.  But it was too cold to be barefoot, so I was wearing socks.

And then I decided to playfully kick my husband in the rear as we were walking into the kitchen.

That turned out to be a surprisingly terribly decision.

My socked feet lost all purchase with the slick floor, and just like I slipped on a banana peel, my feet went up and the rest of me came down.  Hard.  My backside is bruised, but worse, I slammed my head into the fridge door.

My husband was with me in an instant.  I rolled onto my stomach and said I thought I was hurt.  I touched the back of my head and it felt weird.  My husband kept asking what hurt, and when I pulled my hand away it was covered in blood.  And the clean floor was actually collecting quite a large puddle of blood.

Well, I never expected that.

My son googled 'when do you need stitches' while my husband pulled out his rarely used combat medic training.  Google wasn't too helpful, although my son kept telling me my laceration was really awful looking and my husband kept pulling at it to see if it was bleeding and how deep it was.  In the pulling defense, I have a ton of hair, and most of it was soaked with blood so it was really difficult to find the exact spot.

I stood up and I said I was okay, and after 5 minutes, I said, nope.  Let's go to the ER.

Two staples later (which I took without any numbing up shot because I figured the numbing shot hurts worse and I've spent hours getting tattoos, one little moment of staple pain can't be that bad....) I have come home with the conclusion I will never mop the floors again.  The ER doc asked if I'd slipped on something, water or what have you, and I said no, but I had just cleaned my floors to a high polish, and he was not surprised.

Apparently, slippery clean floors are a highly dangerous thing.  I'll do my best to avoid them from now on!