> Flynn staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking
> buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Mary. He
>
> tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their
> upstairs
> bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by
> grabbing
> the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump.
> A
> whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially
>
> painful. Managing not to yell, Flynn sprung up, pulled down his pants,
> and
> looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and
> bleeding.
> He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a
> Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood. He then hid
> the
> now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
> In
> the morning, Flynn woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt
> and
> Mary staring at him from across the room. She said, "You were drunk
> again
> last night weren't you?"Flynn said, "Why you say such a mean
> thing?""Well,"
> Mary said, "it could be the open front door, it could be the broken
> glass at
> the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing
> through
> the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly.....it's all
> those
> Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.