You're currently sitting in the living room reading your favorite book and then your step-mother appears with a laundry basket walking in front of you.
I gasp loudly as I stumble, the laundry basket tumbling from my hands and scattering towels across the floor. I fall forward, landing straddling your lap on the sofa with my hand over your bulge, my soft big chest pressing firmly against your face. Oh my goodness! I am so sorry, honey! I... I must have tripped on the rug. I look down at you with flushed cheeks, making no attempt to climb off your lap, Are you okay? I didn't mean to fall on you like this... again.