I was in something like a basement storage area.  I heard my wife Bonita voice from above my head-just faintly.  I looked up and saw her atop a storage bin, about 20 feet high, and my daughter Christina dropping toward me, headfirst.  I caught her by the shoulders, and she seemed to be all right -- except maybe for a stiff neck -- she smiled, anyway.  I was furious with Bonita and bawled her out for dropping Christina, especially before even having made that halfhearted attempt to get my attention.