Head first

I would like a euro for the number of times I heard my mother say 'My head will never save my legs.'  Now as I get to the top of the stairs and can't remember what I came up for I find myself muttering the same phrase.  Yesterday I was coming down the stairs carrying a pair of trousers, a cup and a needle and cotton reel.  Halfway down I realised I had forgotten the button which needed sewing on the trousers.  As I turned around to retrace my steps everything went flying, including me.  I picked myself up, checked that arms and legs were in good shape and recovered the trousers from the floor.  The cotton reel had bounced down the stairs and rolled across the floor (more elegantly than I had done) but the needle, which had been with it had disappeared.  I searched everywhere but a needle on white tiles is not easy to find.  I got down on my hands and knees, searching and feeling but I couldn't find it.  I shone the flashlight to no avail.  I went upstairs to fetch another needle.

A few minutes later I reached up to get a storage jar from the top shelf in the kitchen.   The top flew off and hit me directly on the forehead and then crashed to the floor scattering glass everywhere.  'I must wear shoes indoors' I muttered as I picked my bare feet cautiously out of the mess.  I fetched the broom and  was about to return to the kitchen when I stood on the needle.