How to Kill Your Boyfriend and Make it Look Like an Accident
15July 2, 2012 by Kat Richter
Step 1: Get drunk—not super drunk but at least marginally tipsy and make sure you have a good excuse. Mine, for example, was the fact that I’d spent the entire weekend shuttling my students around backstage, doling out safety pins and talking them through a variety of competition-related meltdowns. If all three of my graduating seniors hadn’t burst into tears at one point or another over the weekend, I wouldn’t have felt the need to consume a glass of red wine, two glasses of white sangria and half of my dad’s mojito upon the completion of their final recital. But they did, so I didn’t have much of a choice.
Step 2: Eat lots of cheesecake, this way when you decided to sit down on your boyfriend’s lap and nestle your head against his shoulder, you weigh a bit more than usual.
Step 3: Be sure that your boyfriend is sitting in a plastic folding chair—the kind that aren’t meant to support more than 200 pounds— this way you can ensure that all evidence of the “accident” is destroyed and eventually thrown away.
Step 4: Lean back.
Step 5: Let gravity do its thing.
Do you see where I’m going with this? Unfortunately we didn’t.
As a result, The Wedding Date and I ended up flat on our backs just shortly after the first of the July 4th fireworks had run their course and although he broke my fall, the chair wasn’t quite as obliging.
My attempts at patching him back together were nothing short of pathetic:
Florence Nightingale I am not…
Then again, I practically had to corner him before he’d let me near his back with anything even resembling an antiseptic.
Fortunately he knows me well enough at this point that he suggested I take a picture “for the blog” as soon as the procedure was over.
Seven band aids later…
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My name is Kat Richter and I'm a writer, dancer and reformed serial dater. I write about relationships, travel, bargain basement fashion and the funny things I see and hear around Philadelphia. Enjoy, and remember: its not dating, its fieldwork!
OMG TWD!!! I am glad everyone is ok. But you know he is going to point to the eventual scar and give you a look every time he needs to guilt trip you into something… (Just like in White Christmas!)
I know, I know… I’m already preparing myself, LOL!
This is why we don’t use glass up on the roof deck–except for NYE, and then no one is attempting to sit on anything (usually…) So glad he’s okay and it can now be something funny to look back on. The party was good though–
Glad you got TWD all patched back together. I’ve never been a big fan of plastic chairs. Someone always gets hurt, especially when alcohol is involved. We had 5 plastic chairs meet their demise at a party a couple of years ago when a friend of a friend downed too much Jagger and then decided to lap dance on everyone. Luckily, aside from the emotional scarring, the only fatalities were the plastic chairs.
even worse these were plastic AND metal…so it could have been a big problem!
Ooo. Ouch.
This is hilarious! I cant imagine how the husband would act if I– oh wait, yes I do. He’d act extra wounded and demand extra kisses to help heal his injuries.
Haha, totally!
That’s intense.
This made me smile earlier today. Thanks.
This made me laugh.
Also, love the new theme! I just got one as well, though I have TONS of tweaking to do.
Thanks! It took me ALL day to find one I liked and start tweaking… still have a lot of tweaking to do (and I have to figure out how to compress all of my extra odds and ends into ONE widget space with this theme but hopefully I’ll get there). I’m heading over to check out your makeover right now!
[...] of even the most devoted of Julie Andrews characters, plus The Wedding Date and I haven’t had much luck with chairs lately so I elected to remove a clean, wooden one from the dining room table [...]
[...] They don’t show you that part in Sense and Sensibility (presumably because the houses didn’t have thermostat’s back then?) and I lost no time in teasing The Wedding Date for his sub-par navigational skills even though the bruise on my elbow wasn’t half the size of the scar on his back. [...]
[...] The Wedding Date and I are breaking furniture again. [...]