My mother says that I am clumsy.
My father says that I am clumsy.
I know that I am clumsy.
I do things all the time that are clumsy.
I fall down for no reason at all.
If there is a crack in the sidewalk, I will be sure to trip on it and fall down.
If I carry a plate of food in the cafeteria, I almost always either drop it or bump into someone with it.
I don’t try to do these things, it just happens.
When I drink juice, I miss my mouth and get juice all over my shirt.
I always have something spilled on my clothes.
Last week I opened a jar of peanut butter.
The jar flew out of my hands and landed upside down on the floor.
There was a big glob of peanut butter on the floor.
Yesterday I knocked over the sugar bowl.
There was a big sticky mess on the floor.
I bump my head when I get into the car.
I rip my pants on things.
I lose my money out of my pockets.
I step on the cat’s tail.
I always feel bad when I do that because the cat thinks I don’t love her.
I don’t mean to do these things.
I am just a clumsy person.
My parents tell me to slow down.
I am always in a hurry; maybe that’s why I’m so clumsy.
Maybe it’s just a stage that I am going through.
If it is, I hope it is over soon.
Being clumsy is no fun at all.