Sunday, August 15, 2010

Just Call Me Grace

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.

No joke.

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.


  1. You forgot to mention the part that your Sister-In-Law and her husband walked through the yard of Grandma's just in time to hear all the laughing and to see you getting up off the ground. Good Times. Glad you weren't hurt too badly.

  2. Oh how I wish I had a scanner so I could scan and post that picture of the GIANT lump on your head from playing catch...

  3. Anonymous, that was uncalled for. Heh heh.

    Thanks Crystal.

  4. "What are you doing"?, "Get UP"! Questions and angry demands as I lay beside the car. I stepped out into a gopher hole after we parked at the petting zoo in Lumsdon. Ask Justine, she was there! I know I was glad not my ankle was not injured......

  5. Justine actually told me about that! Sensitive empathetic girls we have raised, that's for sure.

  6. Ouch, I bet you had it seriously down to a science. Instead of crying it was sever hyperventilating, blowing on your hands, and saying "oooh oooh oooh" hundreds of times.

    Single Dad Laughing

  7. Actually I just sat there kind of stunned and looking at my muddy gravelly bleeding hands and laughing. Laughing in a if-I-stop-laughing-I'm-going-to-start-crying way.