"What did you do that for?!"

So, I've had to take a bit of time off from painting and changing stuff around this last week. On Monday (aka laundry day) I was carrying a basket FULL of clothes down the stairs and managed to miss a step along the way. I know, I know, no big surprise, I have about as much grace as a lawn mower in a china store. It was luckily only the last few stairs (four, to be exact), and my ankle cushioned my fall (??).
Really, that was the unlucky part.
Somehow, I managed to get my ankle under my rear and sort of slide down the stairs with my folded leg as the sled. As I sat at the bottom of the stairs holding my ankle, I thought, "I'm gonna be in a cast for Christmas!" and "I wonder how I'll get to the phone to call for help?!" Then I banished those thoughts and declared (between sobs) that I was ok and I prayed for healing.
My. God. Is. Amazing.
All I have is a nasty rug-burn and a bruise on my foot. I was up and walking within a few minutes, and although shaken, I was totally fine.
At some point in the next few minutes, I thought it would be a wise thing to call my dearest husband, whom I knew would have the utmost sympathy for me. He'd tell me to be more careful of course, but I'd get the "Oh no, are you ok?!!" that I was longing for in that moment, and he'd let me shed a tear or two over how much I hate laundry day even more now...

Nice fantasy of mine huh? Reality, here's how it went;
Me (in an overly shaky voice for effect)-"I just fell down the last four stairs with a full load of laundry! I'm ok, but man, I was so scared I broke my ankle at first!"
Dustin- (silence at first, then an angry voice) "J -EEENNN! WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!!" (huffs and tisks)
Now, if I was really with it at the time, which unfortunately I wasn't, there are lots of things I could have answered...."I felt like it." "It seemed like fun at the time." "I thought you would hire a maid if I made myself and invalid" etc, because he was totally implying that I had done this on purpose!
Instead, my reaction was more like "Are you actually getting mad at me?!" Because every woman wants their husbands to get angry at them when they're feeling the need to be reassured and babied a bit, right? As if my pride wasnt hurting enough, he had to seem angry that he was married to a clutz.

Now, I'm not so brain dead that I can't see it's all because he felt helpless to help me when it's already happened and it's his frustration talking because he wasn't there, yada yada yada ya...
AND, he did snap out of it pretty quickly and even went as far as to say that I should wait for him to come home and he'd carry the laundry up and down the stairs for me, not even caring how completely stupid it would be that I would only do one load a day because I'd be waiting for him just to carry it.
And he completely babied me the next few days as I went to the chiropractor and put my hip back in place and had the whiplash in my neck worked on (it really was some fall!).

And then when I got the flu two days later (are you seeing what kind of miserable week I've had?) I literally stayed in bed for an entire day. He brough me chicken noodle soup at lunch and he did everything with the kids. He definitely made it up to me, but next time I wipe out, I'll text a friend first. :P