October 25, 2006
A sure sign of adulthood is that you no longer 'fall over' (as kids do) but instead you 'have a fall'.
'Having a fall' sounds so graceful doesn't it? Like something old ladies do when their legs finally give up on them and they wither softly to the ground like a drifting leaf. There is absolutely nothing about my piece de resistance yesterday that could be described as graceful. It was as if that loose paving slab projectile vomited me over the pavement as I and my shopping were spewed over the entire estate. Oh and if only that had been the end of it, but no sooner had I hit the concrete when there I was flying through the air again.
I thought at this point that maybe I had died (of embarrassment, no less) and I was being heaved back up to heaven to meet my maker, but alas no such luck, I was simply bouncing across the pavement on my right hip and shoulder. Bump bump bump.
To add salt to my wounds the kafuffle provided the night's entertainment for the local Tesco's Express Hoodie Gang, who all instantly collapsed in laughter (give them their due it probably was funny) which left only a sole young man with a walking stick to hobble over and offer his assistance. The thought of what sort of tragi-comic slapstick might occur should I have taken the man's only spare hand to help me to my feet was enough to force me to silently vow that even if I had broken every bone in my body, I was going to yank myself off the floor, insist that I was OK and drag myself home before I collapsing again.
'I'm fine!' I declared to anybody who cared, 'I think my coffee took the brunt' and true to my word, the jar was shattered into pieces smaller than my pride.
The thing is that paving slab has been loose for months now and every time we walk past it, I always shout out to warn my daughter, 'Mind the loose slab!' NOT ONCE has she ever tripped over it. Last night because I was on my way home from work, she was not with me, it was dark and the rest (or should I say my dignity) is history.
Quite how I got away with not breaking any bones, I shall never know - my wrist, hip and knee are quite the most revolting colour I've ever seen and I had to fish a bit of coffee jar from a wound in my hand, but thankfully with the aid of a little facial grimace, everything seems to work satisfactorily.
Though I am mourning the loss of a WHOLE JAR of coffee. That does seem a little unfair.
Posted by purple elephant at October 25, 2006 08:55 PM