It wasn't until about 5 p.m. on Friday that I even realized it was Friday the 13th. Then about an hour and a half later, it became very clear. Never mind almost hitting the cyclists...
It was my husband's grandmother's 93rd birthday and we were invited over for cake and ice cream. She lives what likely amounts to less than a block away so we set out on foot, and on bike (the little boys) to go celebrate with Grandma. We had gotten her flowers because at 93 what else does a person really need except their hearing back and comfortable clothes. She has clothes. We can't give her hearing back although she is adamant it's fine (it's not, hence the shouts of "WHERE'S THE GRAVY BOAT?!" at Easter this year). Anyway, point being, I was carrying flowers.
Great-Grandma lives downhill from us so the boys were going a little faster on their bikes than I was comfortable with and so I was kind of running to keep up and as I approached the curb, I tripped. Not a little hitch in my step but a full-on trip fell to my knees scraped up my hands landed in a muddy gravel driveway mothertruckin' trip.
I ended up on hands and knees with my daughter laughing her ass off only feet away from me. The youngest child continued to head for Great-Grandma's. The six year old laughed. My husband and oldest child came around the corner and began to laugh too. Followed up by this brilliant question: "What are you doing?" I'm fucking clamming, what does it look like I'm doing?
Instead I just sat there. Trying not to cry. Feeling stupid and hurt. My hands fucking hurt and were all muddy and gravelly. But I was not going to cry. I'm the Mom; I kiss other people better who fall down. I had mud on my pants so thought, great, I will go home and change and can cry like a little bitch at home. By myself. Except for one thing: we'd locked ourselves out.
So I took my daughter home with me because she'd be able to fit through a window better than I. We broke in, I got cleaned up, bandaged and changed.
My husband is determined to not let me forget it and after a few drinks last night he took great delight in telling our company how embarrassed I looked. Thanks a-hole.
Just call me Grace.