A week ago today (08/07), Mom was working in the kitchen preparing lunch. Dad, as is his habit, stumbles by whenever the mood strikes him. It's usually to re-supply his cache of pills. He lines them up on the dining room table before he has lunch. So, while Mom is cooking, Dad ambles into the kitchen.
At that moment I'm upstairs. All's well. All's quiet.
Next thing I hear is a pretty sizable thud and a few loud expletives. This is what I see when I find Dad.
He has managed to lift up under an open cupboard door. The gash he got ran from almost his forehead, back halfway across his head. He's bleeding and a little dazed but otherwise still has his wits about him.
Dad's head is hard, apparently. I worried at first that he could have a subdural hematoma but he insisted he felt all right.
Today the scab has mostly washed off with repeated shampoos. He's feeling OK. But he insists Mom opened the cupboard after he bent down and she as surely insists that she did not.
Trouble is, Dad seldom learns a lesson and will probably be at it again. I suppose each crack makes him a little stronger.