Last year, on the day of my kids Track and Field Day for school, I was running around like a crazy person with my camera, trying to get photos of my own kids, my nephews, and my friends' kids. There were other parents there I knew and we were laughing and having a good time. I was walking past the stadium seats on my way to ... somewhere ..... when I tripped over a piece of sidewalk that was approximately 1/1000 of an inch taller than the piece next to it. My toe caught, and my momentum lurched my body forward with my foot trapped behind. I started doing that thing ...... where you try desperately to catch up and right yourself .... arms windmilling all the while .... knowing that you're probably going down and there's nothing you can do about it. In my case, I had the added pressure of trying to protect my camera as I fell.
I landed flat on my face.
My sister and a friend of mine rushed over to me, but instead of helping me, instead of asking if I was alright, instead of checking for one NANOSECOND that I wasn't hurt, my sister just rolled around on the ground, tears streaming down her face, laughing her head off.
The only thing funnier is the re-telling of the story she does on a regular basis, and the uncanny re-enactment of the windmilling arms.
Then there was that time I fell down in Alaska and basically caused an avalanche.
Then last fall when we took Kellen and my nephews to run their triathlon I was hurrying, trying to get pictures of all the boys (you'd think I'd learn to slow down a little with the camera) and I stepped in a gopher hole and about bit the dust right there. My sister, once again, saw the whole thing and still makes fun of me about it.
What can I say? My nickname was "Klutz" in high school for good reason.
This morning, it started spritzing from the sky and the temperatures were falling pretty quickly as I prepared to leave the house. In fact, it was getting cold enough outside that I wasn't comfortable leaving the dog outside, especially since I would be gone all day. So I went outside with her to convince her to use the restroom before leaving her inside, while I went to the school to volunteer.
I already had my coat on, ready to leave the house ..... and as I stepped purposefully across the patio to go in the backyard with Barley, I felt my left foot begin to slide across the patio. Wait, I knew it was wet and cold, but I didn't realize it was already icy!
I tried frantically to regain my balance, but when my right foot begin slipping as well, I knew I was going down. Even my windmilling arms couldn't save me.
I fell, pretty hard, on my right side, and a few thoughts went through my head:
1. Dammit, I just got dirt on my coat.
2. Holy crap, I think I just broke my pinky.
3. Thank goodness Kelly wasn't here to see that.
I must have mumbled "Ouch!" which is CLEARLY dog-code for "Hey, Barley, come over here and jump on me!!!" because that's exactly what she did. While I'd love to assume she was rushing to check on her injured master, I'm pretty sure she just wanted to play .... especially considering she dropped her plastic donut on my chest, then jumped on me again.
So there I was, trying to get up, feet still slipping out from under me because of the ice, with a dog trying to lick my face the entire time, and I was laughing .... because after all, it *was* pretty funny.
It wasn't until later, when I got to the school, that I became aware of how sore my right side is. And I came to an earth-shattering realization:
If I were twenty years older, of if I were thirty pounds lighter, I totally would have broken my hip. Those extra layers of padding actually PROTECTED ME from injury!!
It's supposed to continue icing all evening. My brother in law already wound up in a ditch on his way home tonight, and school has already been canceled for tomorrow. If you'll excuse me, I need to go eat a donut. Because apparently I fall down a lot, and I need to protect me from myself.