Captain Clumsyfingers, having finally banished the yellow clouds of turmeric, ventured back into the kitchen last night to retrieve the cat food, pulling out the sachet and simultaneous dislodging a pack of 10 cans of some other cat food, which, of course, landed on my bare foot. Despite not falling very far as the cupboard is at ground level (the cans were on the top shelf, so about knee height), it really fucking hurt and made me utter a number of very bad words. The boundless sympathy of my wife stretched to why don't you look what you're doing? which I suppose is unsympathetically accurate. Bad Cat just gnawed my ankle (Little Monster Cat, being wiser, just patiently waits by her bowl).
Big fat bruise now and I won't be wearing party heels for a few days.