(I get up to grab something off the shelf when I trip suddenly and nearly fall, barely catching myself on the arm of the couch.)

Husband: “Are you okay?!”

Me: “Yeah. I’m like a badly-written character out of a crappy love story, the way I manage to trip over nothing all the time.”

Husband: “In that case, at least it’s your only flaw.”

Me: *tries to get up and falls again* “I’d rather have flaws.”