No So Amazing Grace

Oh, how my body aches today. I wish it was from working out, but no. Oh, no no no.
It's because I am horribly, tragically uncoordinated.
B got home at the usual time yesterday and I had yet to start dinner - yes, I know I should be ready with clean child, immaculate makeup, cocktail, slippers, pipe and dinner, but I was busy yesterday, okay?
I began to whip up a gourmet meal, which included a can of tuna and a can of mushroom soup. While I was waiting for the water to boil for the noodles, I decided to go online and order some shoes B had been wanting (and needing). We do not allow G in the kitchen all that often, so we have a gate in the entry of the kitchen.
Usually I easily clear the gate, slo-mo hurdle style. I'm just tall enough.
I don't know if I was in a hurry or just not paying attention (it was a long day yesterday - G was on nap strike), but this time, I did not clear the gate.
In fact, the crotch of my ever present yoga pants (part of my mommy-form) caught on the top of the gate.
To hear B tell it, I ate shit. His words. I tried to catch myself, but I was like a rodent trying to claw it's way out of a bucket - no traction. The wall did me no favors. I hit the floor with a thud and I laid there, motionless. B and G sat there, waiting for a noise, some expletives. All I could muster was a few long intakes of air.
I forgot to mention my damn pants were still snagged on the gate. I had one leg kind of jutted up in the air and the other underneath me.
Here I am, stuck, in pain. B is mustering concern but I know, oh I know, he was trying not to laugh.
'Are you ok?'
'No.'
I unhooked myself and limped off to the bedroom. He followed me.
'Are you ok?'
'No. Give. Me. A. Minute.'
I curled up on the bed. The pain was subsiding a bit but I knew what I faced when I emerged. B would assess the situation, decide I wasn't badly hurt, then make fun of me relentlessly.
I could hear the water for dinner boiling over - I had to get up and face the music.
Hobbling like an geriatric, I made my way into the kitchen (B had graciously taken down the gate, which was good, because I probably would have kicked it down).
B did not make fun of me at that point. But this morning, when I pulled myself out of bed feeling like I'd been in a boxing match last night, it began.
Like he said, he has the image of his wife going head over heels over a baby gate, hair flying, yelling 'Ohhhhhh Nooooooooooo."
I'd make fun of me too.