Slow motion reality: When you see something happening before your eyes that you wish wasn't happening, though there isn't anything you can do to stop it.
French Husband turned around,
his elbow caught the corner of the crown,
The crown's airborne flight appeared in slow motion going down towards the tile floor.
I cringed as I recalled, "Italy. 18th century wooden crown. Small, off the beaten path shop. I'll never found another or that shop again. Crash."
It shattered as if it were porcelain.
French Husband quickly turned around. His shocked expression said it all. His eyes met mine waiting to register my reaction.
I screwed my mouth to the side, opened my eyes wide, shrugged, though inside I was SCREAMING.
"Well," I offered, "Better that it was you breaking something that was mine, than me ruining something of yours."
"Let it go, it is what it is. Not important. But I did, really did like it."
So if you come to my house and see a small pile of wood on the coffee table, do not ask if it is kindling. Because I might come unglued.