And then she smashed it into a million pieces.

My kids. They are a great many things. Precious. Kind. Creative. Smart.

But, right now, coordinated is not one the adjectives I would use to describe them. Not that I can talk. I mean, I'm certain they get it honest.

For a while, I thought it was just Kai. She moves around the world too fast and just doesn't have time to keep up with her surroundings. And, I can't tell you the number of times my girl has plowed into a door frame because she was zooming all over the house at the speed of light.

But, if clumsiness is contagious then I'm certain Ivy has managed to catch it. She's beginning to have a permanent red mark on her forehead from banging into one thing or another. And, just the other night she actually gave herself a big ol' bruise while drinking a cup of milk. Who'd have thought a nighttime cup of milk could be so dangerous?

Thanksgiving Day, though, she took the cake (or the Turkey) in clumsiness.

I've mentioned how my mom's house is. It's beautiful. And impeccably decorated. Basically, it is a veritable mine field for my children. So, Thursday as we're all settling in to cut the Turkey I hear "the sound."

You moms are familiar with "the sound" right? It is the noise that is made by a catastrophic crash that you are certain has left something decimated beyond all recognition thanks to your child. This time around it sounded like a crystal chandelier falling two stories into the family room. Thank God, it wasn't.

Instead, it was my two-year-old bumping into and knocking over a very expensive 5 foot tall glass cylinder floor lamp. And smashing it into a million pieces in the process.

Thank the Lord, she kept moving on past that lamp and didn't linger in the wreckage because it was the thing Thanksgiving nightmares are made of. We could easily have landed in the ER with an appointment with plastic surgery this week. Instead, she escaped unscathed and the only lingering effect was my own sense of mortification at her propensity for damage and relief at her ability to escape without a mark.

I was also pretty thankful it was at my mom's house, 'cause, you know, Grandma's have to love their grandkids no matter what, right? My kids are definitely testing that theory out with each and every visit!

But, what about you? What is the worst damage you or one of your kids has inflicted on someone else's house? Surely, I'm not the only parent uncomfortably familiar with "the sound?" (Please say no!)