The Excitement of a Tumble

On Saturday I was with my three biggest kidlets, across town at a church to do some volunteer work.  I have more to write about that experience in the very near future, but I’m going to skip those details right now because I have a lot to say about it, and I want to get to the heart of THIS story.  After we had finished doing some volunteer work, we bundled up in our winter gear to head back to the car.  The church was on many levels, and the foyer where we had placed our coats was on a different level than the entrance we had come in.  All three of my big kidlets headed down the stairs and were waiting for me next to the door.  On the way into the church the sidewalk had been treacherously icy, so I made a mental note to be careful when I got outside as I donned my terrific chicken winter hat.  (It has eyes, an orange beak, and that wonderful red thing that you see on top of a chicken’s head.  My husband gave it to me, and I love it and wear it everywhere.  It turns a lot of heads because you don’t often see a 37 year old mom wearing a knit chicken hat.  Actually, I think it might embarrass my husband a bit, but he should have known better before he gave it to me.)

It turns out that I need not have been worried about the sidewalk, because I set my foot on the top step of the flight of stairs which was not carpeted and was wet from melting snow that had been tracked in, and it turns out, very slippery.  Down I went!  Thunk!  Then:  thunk, thunk, thunk!  I was bouncing down those steps on my behind like something out of a cartoon!  Wheeee!  My legs were flailing!  My arms were waving!  I thought to myself, My goodness, I’m falling!  Wow.  I’m still falling.  Heavens, I’m still going!  I wonder if I’ll ever stop?  I could see a crowd of horrified faces waiting for me  at the bottom of the steps, and when I finally did reach the floor, my first reaction was to assure them that I was OK.  I sat right up and exclaimed, “I’m fine!  Don’t worry!”  Three old ladies hurried  over to check on me.  I rubbed my behind, which was already a bit sore, and jumped right up and gave them a big smile.

“My, that was really rather exciting!”  I said, as I adjusted my chicken hat.

“No, no it was not!” replied one elderly lady with a mystified expression on her face.

“Make sure you are careful on that sidewalk out there,” said another old lady.

“Are you SURE you are OK?” asked the third horrified woman.

Meanwhile, my children were laughing, not loudly as to be impolite, but they definitely had a case of the giggles.  It was a sight that I’m sure they will not ever forget.

I was fine, of course.  No broken bones.  No major injuries.  I was instantly grateful that I had fallen and that it hadn’t been a wobbly senior citizen who slipped and broke a bunch of bones.  Right away I thought of my college friend Mel, one of the biggest hearted people I know, who also happens to really enjoy watching people fall down as long as they don’t hurt themselves.  I got the giggles just thinking about how much she would have been laughing at me.

I am totally going to be an old lady who breaks a ton of bones!  I just know it.  I’m always falling down.

Meanwhile, I just have a few very sore muscles, and a sizable bruise on my posterior that exactly resembles the imprint of a stair step.