Amazing grace or loss of face?

The human brain is a remarkable thing. Combine it with the strength and flexibilty of the human body and you have a machine that can climb mountains, run marathons, write poetry or send a rocket to the moon.
Sometimes though, that special combination of grace and intelligence struggles to come together in perfect harmony. Just occasionally we mean to say or do one thing, but end up doing something entirely different and totally unintended.
Yesterday, for my dearly beloved, was one of those days. A day where the defining characteristic was clumsiness. And boy, was he clumsy - let me count the ways...
1) I'd left my mobile in the bathroom. Meaning well; intending to pick it up and bring it to me, he somehow managed to drop it into the toilet bowl.
= broken phone that is emitting a strange blue light rather than a working signal.

2) while trying to help me start the ancient petrol lawn mower at the allotments, he placed his fingers between the handle and the control lever just as I squeezed them together
 = long grass, still uncut and several bruised fingers.
3) still at the allotment - constructing the climbing frame for our runner beans, he inadvertently caught the net covering our cabbages in a button on the back of his trousers
= unprotected cabbages and strangely dressed Philip
4) while eating dinner at our local village pub, holding my hand and gazing into my eyes. All was going well until a lady from the next table leant over and quietly whispered 'excuse me, do you know you're on fire?'. Philip had nudged his napkin into the candle and neither of us had realised it was alight
= slightly singed laminate where he'd dropped the burning tissue; and immediate entry into the landlady's book of troublesome customers.
5) still at The Two Brewers, knocking the salt cellar across the table and onto the singed laminate with a loud crash
= our names underlined in the book of troublesome customers and an early end to our romantic night out.
6) at the very end of the day, when we both thought no more would or could possibly happen, shutting his unharmed hand in the bedroom door
= more bruised fingers and a very tired man.

By comparison, today has been quite uneventful.