I now have infamous grace in my family.
so two days ago, while it was raining in the morning, my mother dropped me off at school. Scrambling, I shoved my worn work shoes onto my feet and scooped up my bag; seeing how my mother had to tutor a kid in 15 minutes, I really had to get going. Opening up my polka-dot umbrella and slinging my bag onto my shoulder, I closed the van door...
Now let's pause, leaving our heroine in mid-stride. How long have I worn these shoes? a year. Do they have any traction after thousands of hours running around Wendy's? no, not really. Do they have any traction on a wet curb? I could defy the laws of friction in that envirionment.
...so our heroine's first step is miscalculated, and only her traction-less toe makes the curb instead of her entire foot. and down she goes. I didn't stand a chance. My hair and arms seemed puzzled by it all and tried to stay up in the air a split second longer, but my lower body knew I was done for. I stood up, grimacing in embarrassment, to my mother's hysterical laughter. She was laughing so hard it became internal; I didn't know she could go that long without breathing. She kept jabbing at her sternum, gasping for air and intelligible words, finally saying, "Oh Heather, you are SO your mother's daughter! I saw you stand for a moment, then the next all I saw were arms and hair flying everywhere." Leaning against the steering wheel for support, she wheezed, "I'm laughing so hard because I'm the kind who'd do something like that!" I giggled along, feeling perfectly foolish, rubbing the wet stripe now down the length of my right leg.
Still hiccuping with laughter, my mother wished me a good day. Looking around sheepishly for any witnesses, I went off to class with nothing worse than wounded pride, little expecting how the story would get around and around and AROUND my family. My mother was so genuinely delighted with the hilarity of my 'grace' that my father and half her side of the family knew within 36 hours. When the grandparents came into town yesterday for my sister's soccer game, I got properly razzed for the whole thing. Then my father learned about it, and was so disappointed I hadn't told him about it the first time I saw him. oh well. I guess I'm just a walking disaster - known to spill the most spill-proof of things, and now to sprawl on wet curbs. *sigh* I told my mom I was gonna start calling myself a baby elephant, and though she protested to my self-appointed name at first, it reminded her of my 'grace' and she collapsed into cahoots of laughter once more.
so I guess I really am a baby elephant. hooray for the love of a mother.
so two days ago, while it was raining in the morning, my mother dropped me off at school. Scrambling, I shoved my worn work shoes onto my feet and scooped up my bag; seeing how my mother had to tutor a kid in 15 minutes, I really had to get going. Opening up my polka-dot umbrella and slinging my bag onto my shoulder, I closed the van door...
Now let's pause, leaving our heroine in mid-stride. How long have I worn these shoes? a year. Do they have any traction after thousands of hours running around Wendy's? no, not really. Do they have any traction on a wet curb? I could defy the laws of friction in that envirionment.
...so our heroine's first step is miscalculated, and only her traction-less toe makes the curb instead of her entire foot. and down she goes. I didn't stand a chance. My hair and arms seemed puzzled by it all and tried to stay up in the air a split second longer, but my lower body knew I was done for. I stood up, grimacing in embarrassment, to my mother's hysterical laughter. She was laughing so hard it became internal; I didn't know she could go that long without breathing. She kept jabbing at her sternum, gasping for air and intelligible words, finally saying, "Oh Heather, you are SO your mother's daughter! I saw you stand for a moment, then the next all I saw were arms and hair flying everywhere." Leaning against the steering wheel for support, she wheezed, "I'm laughing so hard because I'm the kind who'd do something like that!" I giggled along, feeling perfectly foolish, rubbing the wet stripe now down the length of my right leg.
Still hiccuping with laughter, my mother wished me a good day. Looking around sheepishly for any witnesses, I went off to class with nothing worse than wounded pride, little expecting how the story would get around and around and AROUND my family. My mother was so genuinely delighted with the hilarity of my 'grace' that my father and half her side of the family knew within 36 hours. When the grandparents came into town yesterday for my sister's soccer game, I got properly razzed for the whole thing. Then my father learned about it, and was so disappointed I hadn't told him about it the first time I saw him. oh well. I guess I'm just a walking disaster - known to spill the most spill-proof of things, and now to sprawl on wet curbs. *sigh* I told my mom I was gonna start calling myself a baby elephant, and though she protested to my self-appointed name at first, it reminded her of my 'grace' and she collapsed into cahoots of laughter once more.
so I guess I really am a baby elephant. hooray for the love of a mother.
Comments
Keep the posts comin', Heather. I'll read 'em!