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The first email from my mother was the following, the subject--"What's in store for [the sister who inherited my mother's klutz gene]." It goes a little something like this:

"I don't know if I told you guys, but I bought a Classis Salad Bowl set from Pier One a while ago. I put it away in the closet. I thought about it the night we had clients over for dinner and got it out. I opened the box and it was missing one of the serving bowls (the set was supposed to have a big glass salad bowl and 4 individual serving bowls.) I figured they must have taken one out to use as a display or something. Anyway I called Pier One, explained the situation and they said they didn't have the set anymore, but would call around and see if they could locate one. I had a call yesterday that they had found one and had it shipped to Petoskey. They said I could bring in the old set and take the new, or I could just take a bowl. I took the old set and left it in the car, just in case the sets were different. Anyway, I went in and they had the set and I took just the missing serving bowl. When I got home (still in the garage) I took the single serving bowl I had just picked up and put it in the box with the set. I carried it into the house and proceeded to drop the box on the floor. Now the big salad bowl is in 100 pieces but the 4 serving bowls are ok. I called Pier One...I think they think I am trying to scam them out of something. I just asked if I could buy the rest of the set I took one bowl from. It is a little hard to believe that this happened 30 minutes from going there to get the bowl from the set they had sent! YIKES, I can't stand it! Poor Meggie, too bad you inherited the KLUTZ genes! That's my news for today! Love you, MOM"

And yes, my mother does in fact sign ALL of her email with capital M-O-M. It doesn't matter how many times I've told her that when I'm reading it, I read the capitals as shouts, she still does it. You can imagine me sitting there reading every email I get from my mother out loud. "Blah, blah, blah. Love, MOM!!!!!"

Anyway, the next day, I got this email, titled "Latest Klutziness":

"I came home from golf (after talking to you on the phone, Meg) and went out by the lake. I was still in my good golf clothes. Capris, golf shirt, white sweater, good leather (new!!) clogs. I saw something just out from shore in the water by the steps which I couldn't reach. There was a stick nearby so I thought, maybe I can reach it with this stick. I could reach but not budge the object. I squatted down on the bottom step thinking I could reach out a little further and get under it with my stick, and to secure myself, I held on to the back of the top step (must clarify that the steps are beginning to slant into the water so I could reach behind the top-back of the upper CEMENT step and hold on to it). Well, needless to say, as I am reaching out the step pulled out, I went into the water all the way, clothes and all, and the step, CEMENT mind you, flipped over and landed on top of one leg and foot (in my new totally submerged leather clogs and clothing). I am totally under water in the lake (except for my head) the CEMENT step has me pinned by one leg and I can't budge it. I did get one foot out and managed to twist around a little so I could put my knees down, but scraped the heck out of the leg and ankle which was still pinned under theHUGE CEMENT step. I knelt in the water now to the waist still totally soaked and pushed and pushed on the CEMENT (you know how big those suckers are) step trying to budge it to get my leg/foot out. I finally managed to free my leg/foot (don't ask me how...it must have been adrenaline), but my new clog was still stuck in the lake under the step. I continued to try to heave it up a little and managed to finally get the shoe out...the leather looks like my leg--all scraped and a gouge out of it...only it isn't bleeding like I am. I left my shoes on the deck, scurried to the laundry room dripping sandy water all the way, and threw everything I had on into the washer. I can't believe my LUCK (or KLUTZINESS). I had visions of being trapped there in the water under the step til Phil came home or a boat came by. I sure hope baby Alek doesn't inherit the klutz genes. It is beginning to get more hazardous! Love to all. MOM"

Now, first of all, I LOVE my mother. She is, to put it simply, the shit. And I'm extremely thankful that she's okay and she didn't drown or anything. But you should all know that the lake our house is on is not very deep. Like, six inches deep for the first 30 or so feet in. My mother was never in any real danger of drowning. And these CEMENT steps she's talking about are three steps that lead down to the lake at a combined height of roughly 11 inches. Secondly, what the hell was she reaching for? What possibly possessed her to walk to the front of the house, look in the lake, see something floating there, and think "I must find out what this is. Get me a stick!" And this is a horrible thing to say, but my sister and I were discussing this today, and imaginging if she'd been stuck there until our step father got home from work or a boat came by. We love her, but we laughed and laughed. And laughed. And were thankful that she was okay and the only casualty of the incident were her new. clogs. dammit!. And laughed.

Thinking of this all in a thick Great Lakes accent just makes it all even better.

I love you, Mom! I mean, MOM!

"I'm going to start signing all of my emails, 'Love, PAM!!!'" -- PAM!!! (and she did. and does.)