Our stairs have a very tricky turn at the landing; two steps at the turn form the landing, and they are extra wide at one end and narrow at the other. So far, the steps have claimed four victims: My mother, my sister, me, and this past weekend--Rick. At least now he can't make fun of the women in my family for being clumsy--he's part of our exclusive group! The scary part is he was holding Sam when he fell. Fortunately, Sam just thought it was an extra-fun ride down the stairs. At first Rick thought he broke his big toe. After a while, we realized it might actually be his foot. Six hours later, I convinced Rick to let me take him and his club, I mean foot to the ER. Three hours and three x-rays later, the doctor came in with a grin and told us that, inexplicably, his misshapen foot had no fractures. There was a slight shadow on the bone right above his big toe, and she thought maybe his tendon had chipped a tiny piece of bone--the only way to find out is to wait a week and re-assess the foot for pain, swelling, etc.
In the meantime, we are erecting a caution sign for the stairway, and heretofore we, the Wilcox family, will not be liable for any falls or injuries incurred while participating in either ascending or descending aforementioned stairs: climb at your own risk.