Living up to the stereotype

So Chiara and I were in the kitchen tonight, when all of a sudden I heard a rustling of plastic bags and the pantry doors came flying open. I knew our dog, Greta, was on the opposite side of the house, so I could only assume that this was a mouse, or, more likely, something bigger, like a squirrel. So I did what any self-respecting woman would do. I jumped up on a kitchen chair. I wish I were kidding, but I'm not. Where does this come from? I actually jumped on a chair without a second's thought, as if it were the most natural thing to do, as if I were a cartoon character.

So there I am, standing on the kitchen chair, calling Dennis to come check things out. He goes over to the pantry, and disarms a....loaf of oat bread. Yes, I was standing on a chair, taking cover from a large loaf of oat bread that had fallen off a shelf, landed on some plastic bags that we reuse (being green and all) and knocked open the door. Man, do I feel like a dork. But, the kids got a good laugh out of it, and that's all that matters, right?