About a year and a half ago, maybe 2 years, I was in the office doing something. Work? Playing a game. Not sure. Anyway I heard a huge crash. I yelled out, "Is everything okay?" Josh replied after a couple of seconds, "Everything's fine!"
I sat there for a moment and could hear him tinkering around and decided to go out and investigate. What I see is blood dripped from Josh's arm as he's standing over our shattered glass top kitchen table.
I exclaimed, "Everything is NOT fine! Don't ever tell me it's 'fine' when things are obviously not!"
Josh got mad at me because he thought I was more concerned about the table instead of his well being. No, I was definitely concerned about him, but I was also mad at him because that was not the appropriate answer when you've fallen on and broken a kitchen table and you're now bleeding all over.
Turns out there was a bag on the floor by the table and Josh had gotten his ankle wrapped in the handle and then fell right on top of the table. He was fine, the cuts were superficial. The table, unfortunately, was not fine.
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