As a child I was somehow given the nickname, "Klutzy Kelly." I'm sure it wasn't an earned nickname, rather, my sister just liked to pick on me. Or maybe my Mom gave me the name. I don't remember for sure, so I'll just blame Kim. I'm afraid, however, that Sunday morning I rightfully deserved to be called, "Klutzy Kelly." I was coming down the stairs at church carrying my big belly and wearing high healed sandals. The stairs aren't carpeted and somehow my left foot slipped sideways and down I went. My right arm landed on the edge of a step. My Dad was on one side of me, Ben on the other, and both tried to grab me. And of course there were lots of other people there to witness the fall as well. But unlike other mishaps I have had over the years, nobody made fun of me - which can only mean on thing - Kim and Korey weren't there. The result? A pretty purple bruise on my arm. And yes, I know, I am totally opening myself up to ridicule by posting this!