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| My first attempt at illustrating....because you just *can't* find a picture of a ninja on roller skates falling down the stairs and saying a curse word. Who knew? |
Is there anything worse than falling in front of teenagers?
When you're a teenager, it's bad.
When you are their teacher, it's worse.
There I was, chatting with a group of about ten kids after school, before I headed to my doctor's appointment to deal with some allergies. Minding my own business. Secure in the knowledge that all was right in the world. No clue of the tragedy that was about to befall me.
You'll see the pun in the last sentence in just a sec.
I took a step in my high heeled boots and only part of the heel found concrete. The rest of my shoe found nothing but air.
I wiggled and began flapping my arms like a special pelican on crack.
I had time to turn my head, look down those four hard, hard steps to the concrete sidewalk below, and think, "Don't break anything."
So, there, in front of the parents in their cars coming to pick up their children, there, in front of the popular kids and the nerds, in front of the jocks and the geeks, I did two in-air revolutions and bounced off the top two steps, just for good measure. The momentum pushed my feet over my head, forcing me into a funky back flip as I passed the third step. The last bounce propelled me over the final step where I landed in the leg out position like some demented 80s roller skater during the free skate. It was absolutely glorious. I totally resembled Greg Louganis diving from the high board. Or a Russian ballerina pirouetting gracefully through the air before sticking the landing in Swan Lake. Or like a drunk ninja who got kicked out of ninja school and began roller skating to pass the time and one day, on a drunken dare, decides he can skate down the stairs of the subway and the film, of his last breaths as he tries the feat, ends up on one of those America's Funniest Idiot video shows.
Yeah. That's probably what I looked like the most. A drunken idiot.
As I laid there in shock, I took stock of my body. What hurt the worst? Was there a sharp pain anywhere? Did anything feel broken? What did I wear to school today and had I inadvertently flashed something I shouldn't? Did I cuss?
Thoroughly embarrassed, I got up.
To my surprise, none of the kids laughed. They looked shocked.
One of the kiddos looked at me in awe, " Wow, your hair isn't even messed up." I checked my pants to make sure I hadn't torn anything. My arm and my ass were killing me, a living testimony to the tumble that I'd just taken, but otherwise I was surprisingly pain-free.
For the moment. Thank the Lord for adrenaline.
I made my good-byes to the kids and gimped my way over to the car. As soon as I got in, I checked my leather boots. Ruined.
Of course.
My iPhone, which had been in my pocket, amazingly escaped unscathed. My shoulder, arm, ribs, wrist, ankle, knee, and hip were not so lucky.
Worse than the bruises and stiffness was my daughter's response when we got in the car, "Mom, now that I know you're not dead, I have to say that was pretty dang funny, even though your head looked like you broke your neck in a skiing accident on TV."
Thanks, kid. That was almost poetic.....but not.
Thanks, also, ninja-like reflexes. You have kept me alive, yet again.
Reflexes.... fat layer.... Po-tay-toe. Po-taught-toe.
