My mother falls all the time.
She's hit the floor more times than my swiffer.
She once did the slippy dance on some water in an apartment hallway she was helping me to move out of. My Dad and I were walking ahead, with an armload of boxes, but still within earshot to hear the echo of her hitch pitched flipflops squeal against the polished concrete, followed by a ka-bam! We stopped for an instant...openly puzzled as to the cause of the screech, but walked on when we heard nothing. A few minutes later mummy came out, rubbing her head and shuffling at a snail's pace.
Her favorite place to fall is her driveway, as she has done this many times over many years.
Her proneness to falling frightens me - and sometimes when I watch her walk I get nervous. I am thankful that so far it appears I have inherited my Dads 'stay on your feet' gene....
Until bedtime. A couple of minutes ago in fact.
Tonight in a lamp-less attempt to rush from bed to the PVR to tape Sister Wives, I channeled my mother in the ugliest of ways, tripping on my taxes and sailing through the blackness to land squarely on my right kneecap.
Now. What needs to be discussed first? My pain? My taxes as an obstruction? Or my love of Sister Wives?
We'll start with pain, as I could not think of anything else after my spiderman agility failed me.
It hurt. Alot. I did that laugh and cry at the same time thing - rolling around in total darkness across my cold floor. Just like Mom would - giggling as I tried to evaluate the damage.
But because I was able to take this picture, juggling my laptop on my leg, I can safely assume that it is probably not hurt too bad. I do see a little purple bruise starting - but that might be a trick of the eye; the monitor light bouncing off my pinkest of pink pyjamas.
This was supposed to be my 'learn' for the day. I am learning how to claim expenses for taxes - like my cellphone and mortgage. So today was the day I decided to get better organized by going through unbelievably full shoeboxes of unsorted, unloved (and sometimes even still unopened!) mail. I was very successful in creating a new filing system, but not so successful in where I decided to leave the organized box-gone-booby trap. In front of my bedroom door. 'Don't obstruct your bedroom door' seems so elementary that it need not be spoken...I would have rolled my eyes had Nelson said that to me today, and 'duh!' would have been my response. It was just one of those lessons I needed to learn first hand.
is one of my reality favs. If you have not seen this show - YOU MUST. I have a semi-sister wife of my own: Amelia. She happily distracts Nelson when he and I have a time out.
I learned today that taxes can hurt you in more ways than one.
And that I am just that much more like my mother.