Embarassing Injuries

Embarrassing injuries.  Yes, everyone's had at least one.  You know, that one time your cat climbed a tree and you climbed up after it, slipped and fell into a wasp nest buried in the ground?  Or that time you thought it would be cool to stick a safety pin in a wall socket?  OR maybe even that time you approached this adorable little toddler, just to say hello and the cheeky brat thought it'd be funny to kick you in the crotch?  Yeah... all those count.  Pretty much everything counts as an embarrassing injury so long as it occurred via freak accident or human stupidity. 
As far as embarrassing injuries go, I've had a fair few.  I can share some, if you'd like.

At age five, I was running down the stairs with my big, stupid 5 foot tall big bird doll. He was my best buddy and we were going to see gramma and grandpa!  Of course, being so young, I was only what, 3 feet and some inches tall.  Big bird's legs were longer than mine!  And it was then that I tripped over his long legs.  All I remember is my mother's horrified shriek as I pitched forward and fell down the stairs head first.  All 13 of them.  Oh, I was lucky.  I somehow didn't quite FALL straight down, but rather slid down on my stomach.  Bruised ribs anyone?  Then, as if to add insult to injury, Big Bird (that traitorous jerk!) fell on my, bopping me right in the head with the only hard part on his stuffed body, his beak.  Talk about kicking a kid when she's down.

At age 6 or 7, I don't really remember.  I was helping my dad out front with cutting, edging and sweeping up the trimmings from the lawn.  Mother was at the grocery store.  When she returned, she came out the front door and called me.  I turned and screamed, "MOMMY!!!" and raced towards her with glee...and apparently no depth perception.  I ran face first into a pole and then promptly hit the ground.  My mother screamed and rushed to pick me up, hustle me inside and clean off my bleeding head.  I think I got a Barbie bandaid.  I was very careful about running into poles ever since.  Those things are nasty and like to sneak up on ya!  ...Now, go back and read the first sentence of this paragraph.

Age 9, the age where any parent who doesn't want you calling them in the middle of their date whining to be fed would start to teach you to cook.  Mom asked me to get the chicken out of the oven and place it on the wooden cutting board to cool.  I did.  Now, as I was carrying it, I vaguely registered that something was missing.  After I was halfway across the kitchen and nearly at the cutting board, my hands, still holding the scalding hot skillet reminded me.

Age 12:  I had gotten out of class a little early for a scholarship program meeting.  I decided, hey, there's no one in the halls, and I don't feel like taking the stairs.  I'll take the banister!  And so I commenced to slide down three floors of banisters with restrained giggles until... the middle of the 3rd banister, at which point, my butt caught a splinter and the resulting flurry of flailing arms and pained squeals sent me to the ground in front of a cloud of unattended 1st grade girls waiting in line for the bathroom.  I informed them quite politely, "Don't ever do that, ever.  You will get hurt.  Now, does anyone have a first aid kit?"

High School:  We were out playing a rousing game of kickball in honor of homecoming week and instead of being like the other girls and tripping over a fallen player, or an unusual clump of grass or my shoelaces... I decided to be a rebel.  And now I shall pretentiously straighten in my computer chair JUST to tell you the final detail.  I tripped over a mushroom.  It was not unlike this one. 

Present.  The delivery guy just dropped off my delicious hot and did I say delicious? Beef Udon.  Of course, my response was unrestrained joy and impatience to get the food in me! ...I forgot that it was hot.  Now my tongue's so burned I can't even taste it.

There's more, but I won't post them , lest I start to look like the clumsy misfit I am.  Hee hee.  Share some of your experiences!