Choking on my own spit,or a piece of gum. In all fairness, if I choke on gum that will also be because of spit.
(Sorry, mom, not on a broken balloon, dum-dum pop, or eating popcorn laying down.)
Tripping over a cat and smacking my head on something.
(Bonus points of I am naked or it’s “laundry day,” but probably going to happen in the middle of the night when I get up to pee because I refuse to turn on a light.)
Stress induced stroke when I perceive someone as being inconsiderate.
(You couldn’t even be bothered to call back? MY NOSE IS NUMB WITH RAGE AND YOU ARE DEAD TO ME.)
Inappropriate contact with a wild animal.
(Nothing dirty, just trying to hug it.) (I will probably think that it looks friendly.) (My last words will be, “OH MY GOD, BIG KITTEH!!!!”)
Road Rage
(Not a car accident, someone shooting me after I follow them home and lecture them about the proper way to proceed through a four way stop – this is Arizona, afterall.)
Being beaten to death with my own baseball bat.
(Which I sleep with when my husband is away over night.)
Walking into traffic.
(…while reading the news on my phone.)
Falling off a self constructed climbing apparatus
(Like a chair on a table, with some phone books stacked on top of it, in order to dust a ceiling fan or hang curtains.)
Impaled by a paring knife, or severing a major conduit for blood with a paring knife.
(While wedging it into something else to dislodge something … such as a paper jammed in a paper shredder, or a teaspoon stuck in the garbage disposal.)
Tripping over my own flipflops, while they’re on my feet, and snapping my neck on impact with the ground.
(Flipflops: more dangerous than platform shoes.)
p.s. My former roommate would like me to add “falling up stairs.” I assure you, I have no idea what she’s talking about. At all.
(And we our house doesn’t have stairs.)