StuffIt

We have a spacious master bedroom. There's plenty of room for our queen-size bed and matching bedroom set. Any normal person would have plenty of space for a relaxing sleeping environment.

Unfortunately, we're not normal; we're packrats. Besides the bed and bedroom set, our room also has another dresser, a fish tank, an elliptical trainer, a bookshelf, a large computer desk, and a media shelf. Our room is tighter than it should be, but we still have enough space to navigate provided we've shoved all of the dirty clothes littering the floor into a pile in the corner, and I've tucked the computer chair into that nook between the fish tank and the elliptical trainer. Usually I can even successfully stumble to the bathroom at night without tripping over anything. It's cramped, but like I said, we're packrats, so we're used to being surrounded by too much stuff.

Tonight, during the wind down before bedtime, Abbie jumped on our bed while I stood next to it watching television. In one of those adorable displays of affection Abbie only demonstrates when bedtime looms, she jumped into my arms. This would've been cute, except I was too busy following a Scrubs non sequitur to notice her leaping at my neck. Her impact sent me stumbling backwards, but my feet were already pinned against the elliptical trainer with nowhere to go. I stepped back and crumpled backwards to the ground, hoping for the best. My flop sent the elliptical tipping over, but it never hit the ground because the fish tank stopped its fall. With Abbie lying on my chest convinced that she was in trouble, I watched the elliptical rock back upright while the fish tank swayed back and forth a few times.

When I was certain the fish tank wasn't about to tip onto me, I checked for damage. I confirmed that nothing was broken, organic or otherwise, and sent Abbie to her room. Abbie, possibly thinking she got off easy, complied and raced to her room. I slowly rose to my feet, grateful for that pile of dirty clothes under my back that broke my fall.