clumsy is cute...if you're four

Backstory:  My building has two stairwells.  Instead of a spindeley handrail, these have something like a mini-wall.  The front one I use regularly but the back is mostly storage space [it currently houses a heavy bag, extra closet doors, my bike, and several gallons of paint].

Yesterday, driven to madness by the scratching and scurrying of squirrels, I decided to investigate.  I took a folding chair into the back stairwell and climbed onto the railing so I could lift up the attic door and take some pictures.  This would have worked excellently--I could do some spying without actually having to stick my head into the abyss--but after four or five shots my batteries died.  By this time I'm committed to the search.  I needed to be just a little higher to be able to see into the attic, so I improvised.  I took a couple of the paint cans and stacked them on the railing then carefully stepped up.  I remember looking over the raining and thinking how not good it would be to fall, but I stood on the paint cans anyway.

I'm still not sure what happened.  Once second I was peering into sawdust and insulation, the next I was airborne.  My first thought was "At least I fell on this side of the railing," but that was cut short by a few expletives and the fear that I might never walk again.  After a few minutes I was able to get up and limp inside where I took a hot bath and visualized torching the squirrels.

Now I have a six-inch purple stripe on my thigh, which coordinates with these nicely (from a previous non-squirrel related event):