Monday, September 19, 2011

I'm a clutz, it's in my genes.

I once referenced that I inherited my father's gift, or lack thereof, of gracefulness.  Again, I have proven that I'm not a multi-tasker.  I can not walk, talk, and consider throwing in a third option without stumbling over my ridiculously wide size 10 feet. 

Yes, I fell.  It wasn't pretty and with every humiliating collapse, as if it isn't horrific enough, I see it happening in a slow motion out of body experience.  Oh, the shame!  First, the foot twists in a funny, awkward angle.  Then the other foot charges out in front trying to stop the momentum of my fluffy body behind it.  The arms sprawl with hands outstretched ready to deflect what in this case was the certainty of my head crashing into the front door and my knees ramming into the porch step.  My face, I always see my face.  What usually is a composed, pleasant looking countenance is now a twisted, bug-eyed, open mouthed cartoonish look normally with my tongue hanging out in some sort of ghoulish half-scream.  SLAM!

"Someone's at the door!!"  No worries.  Just me.

Now, this is the tricky part.  How long do I lay there? Of course, the first thing I do is look around and make sure no one witnessed the crime.  After all, it was a lovely Saturday evening.  Kids were out riding their bikes (piss ants).  Families were across the street at the park.  Wheew.  Coast clear.

"Oh my gosh, Bri!  Are you ok?"  Too late, discovered.

"Ouch, oh...aww.."  I mean, I did seriously whack myself.  A few years ago, I would have jumped up a lot faster but these kind of falls can take a girl down both figuratively and literally, if you know what I mean.  However, I must admit I did play it up a wee bit.  "I'll be ok."  I added a bit more moaning for theatrical effect.

"Look at the door!  Did you do that with your head?"

Geez, I hadn't noticed that yet.  Now I was really impressed and started feeling it too.  I was not jumping up quickly.  I was going to be pampered and loved back onto my feet.  It felt nice.  "I guess I did.  Ooh, see?"  I showed Eric my booboo on my wrist.

"Yeah, that looks bad."

"And see?"  I showed him my booboo on my knee cap. 

At this point my dear husband started catching on.  He understands me so well.  "Let me help you up, Breezy.  Do you need to lay down and recover?"

"That sounds nice.  Maybe I should take some Tylenol before it really starts hurting."

"Ok, I'll get that for you and some water.  Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Maybe you should kiss my bruises before they turn into something cancerous and of course, then there's my pride..."

I heared him laughing as he walked away to tend to my wounds.  You see, it wouldn't be a good fall without some sort of laughter.  Thank you, Dad.  I guess I inherited your sense of humor too.   






  

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You tried to steal home. You slid in and got tagged out. :D