Clumsy?

My son tells me I am the clumsiest person he's ever met. I would prefer to call it accident prone due to the great speed at which I move - after all, is not every multitasking woman just Superwoman without the cape and hotpants over her tights?
I will admit that I have tripped up flights of steps more times than I care to remember, but I have never fallen down - surely that is some kind of achievement? I do have trouble going through a doorway without hitting my shoulder against the jamb, but not on every occasion. And I have often removed a hot dish from the oven without the aid of oven gloves. You'd think that the resultant burns would be a painful reminder not to do that again, but apparently not.
My worst trip was not a multi-stopover international flight, but an encounter in a dark garage with the heavy metal step that is used to climb up into a caravan. That entailed about half an hour of rolling on the floor holding my shin in absolute agony, with nobody around to carry me to a couch and administer soothing poultices and hot tea. It was really close to the bone and took about six weeks to heal, leaving a dent in my shin forever. In fact, the healing was so slow that I decided to stand in the sea for half an hour to partake of its healing properties. I went down to the bay and stood knee-deep in the icy Atlantic. Within minutes, all sense of feeling had disappeared and when I clambered ashore, a whelk had bored into my foot and needed to be forcibly removed. The subsequent bleeding left a scar that took weeks to disappear.
I have on two occasions failed to untangle my feet from my ever-so-comfortable ergonomic kneeling chair, resulting in a narrow escape from knocking out my two front teeth (took out one as a child) and further permanent scarring on my shins.
I've always thought I was pretty well-coordinated. I can catch the car keys when tossed from an upstairs window with one hand. But on reflection, maybe he's right!