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Catch Me Now I'm Falling


I think I need to get my eyes checked.  Then again, my eyes may be fine-I've been known to be a bit clumsy all my life.  But the fact remains that three times in the past year I've taken some real nasty spills tripping on cracks in the sidewalk or missing curbs. 

The first happened at lunchtime in the company of my financial advisor.  He brought me a new life insurance policy to sign so that my kids will be sure to say they love me when I die.

We were leaving the pizza place in the rain and went to cross the street when my heel got caught in the cobblestones.  I landed face first in a puddle.  My blazer was wet; my palms skinned.  Worse was that: I lay splayed like the picture of a dead person as roadkill and my skirt was hiked up almost around my head.  From where he stood behind me, this guy got a good picture of the wrong end.  I'm sure he couldn't sleep for days with that image in his brain.  He picked me up and I found that my pantyhose were ripped to shreds and the heel of my shoe was broken. I spent the rest of the day a soggy mess at work with one shoe and no stockings massaging my bruised ego.

If I can take any consolation in his now skewed image of me, I remember when Wingman and I owned our deli and the same guy came in to share the news that he and his wife had just had their first child.  He showed us the pictures of the birth INCLUDING  his daughter's head emerging.  I can never look at his wife without the image of that photo coming into MY head. Touche'.

The second fall happened when I was on my lunch break and I needed to get some cookie trays for gifts at the dollar store.  The normal 5 minute ride took me more than 15 with traffic, I was cursing the fact that I had to park so far away and probably wouldn't be able to find a space when I went back to work. I ran to get in front of a couple of slow-walking old people when I missed a step and found myself kissing concrete again.  This time, a couple of teenagers pulled out their cellphones and photographed me while laughing hysterically. My trendy jeans with the well placed patched holes now had new holes in both knees. Meanwhile, the two old people who I tried to pass were in the store looking out at me, shaking their heads.

Last week, I stopped at the mall to check out an ad for a piece of furniture for the house.  As I was crossing the road in the parking lot, I noticed a taxi speeding up towards me as if to play Chicken.  I thought about coming to a dead stop in the road and acting like the man stopping the tank in Tienanmen Square, but figured that A-the idiot driver probably knew nothing about history, B-he probably didn't have a legal American license and C-my luck hasn't been that good this year so why chance it?  I ran across the road and missed the curb.  For the third time I found myself singing "Hello Sidewalk My Old Friend...I've Gotten Scraped By You Again..."  This time, two dear little old ladies stopped to retrieve everything from my tiny overstuffed handbag, before pulling baggies of tissues and band aids from their own purses to clean me up. 

On Wednesday, I leave for a 10 day trip to visit my son and daughter-in-law in Korea.  They were so excited to tell me that as part of my trip, they have planned a long weekend to celebrate my birthday.  At a five star hotel??? With a spa???  And maybe dinner and a show???

No.  To climb a mountain.

So if history happens to repeat itself and I become part of the 6 o'clock news for next week, I hope you have enjoyed this blog.  And if something DOES happen to me on the mountain, the boys know that my life insurance is paid up.

They love me for being prepared.


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