Two Christmas with bumps, bruises and breaks

I am apparently not meant to carry Christmas presents — or at the very least maybe I should just carry one at a time, no matter how long it takes me to load the car.
This is the second year in a row that I’ve had a Christmas snafu related to bringing gifts out to my car. Last year it was a physically painful accident; this year I guess it was just emotionally painful.
The Christmas of 2015 I gathered up an armload of gifts to bring to my in-laws’ house for our annual get-together, and I missed the top stair when I was bringing them down from the kitchen to the entryway in our split-level home. Subsequently, all of the gifts flew out in front of me and I fell backward, sliding from the top step all the way to the bottom. Jill, my wife, heard the commotion and rapidly came down into the entryway to see if I was OK. I was all right, sort of. I hadn’t broken anything, but I ended up with a massive bruise on my hip and skinned up elbows. My lower back hurt for about six months after that fall.
This year as I was getting ready to bring presents out to my car, my wife joked with me to be careful. I heeded her lighthearted warning and made a mental note to take the stairs slowly. I loaded up an armful of gifts, placing the smaller ones on the top of my stack. I made it down the stairs just fine and opened the door to the garage. When I exited the house, I bumped the door, causing the smallest gift to fall off the top of my stack. It was just wrapped in a tiny red-and-black checkered bag, so there wasn’t anything to pad the impact when it hit the ground.
This was a gift that my wife had gotten for my mom. The bag contained small doe and fawn figurines. My mom loves watching the deer come into her backyard to eat the feed she and my dad put out for them, so I’m sure she would’ve liked this gift. “Would’ve” is the key word there. After I picked up the bag, I thought to myself, “Maybe they’re OK; those things are tiny — not a lot of weight — so the impact was probably minimal.”
I opened the bag and found a leg had broken off the doe, and the fawn’s little ears had chipped off. This was one of those “Oh (expletive)” type of moments. I went inside and told Jill what happened. Not surprisingly, she wasn’t pleased. I thought about gluing it, but that turned out to not be an option, as our tube of super glue was all gummed up. She put the damaged decorations in a plastic bag and put that bag into a heart-shaped box.
When my mom got around to opening that gift during our exchange, I told her I had broken her present. She actually laughed a bit and said, “Well, this isn’t the first gift for me you’ve broken.”
Thinking back a bit, I remembered that I had brought her a snow globe back from Rome when I had went there in college. I had put it in my luggage, not thinking much about how fragile it was. When some baggage handler tossed my luggage off the plane, the globe burst, and when I got home and opened my bags, I was greeted by a suitcase full of broken glass and damp clothes. At the time I blamed that one on the baggage handler, but in retrospect I was mostly responsible.
My mom still has that snow globe, albeit devoid of snow and the surrounding glass. Now to accompany that damaged gift, she has a doe with a busted leg and a fawn with no ears to set next to it.
Maybe next year we should just have Christmas at our house; I’d just stay in our living room, not touching anything — that would ensure everything would go off without a hitch.

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