Last night I went to a movie with a friend. I drove to her house and parked there and then we walked a short way to the theater. I carefully changed OUT of my flip-flops and INTO my gym shoes for the walk. Not that it helped. On the way to the theater, I tripped on my own feet or on the sidewalk or on something or other not one but two times. I didn't fall though. Not on the side streets. No, I saved that for the busy busy intersection right by the theater. I tripped yet again--the third time in half an hour and totally wiped out. Landed on my hands and knees. I felt the thud all through my body and my head. My glasses went flying. My friend picked them, and me, up. Passers-by stared, I started laughing. If I hadn't I would have started crying. "I'm fine," I said as my friend worried. We made it to the movies--up six flights of stairs--the escalator was being repaired. I changed back to flip-flops for the walk back. Didn't trip once.
Once I got safely home, I took a hot bath and got into bed. Mr. Minivan was letting the boys stay up too late so I let him deal with them. Boy #2 came into our room to brush his teeth. "Come kiss me good-night," I said. So he raced to the bed and hurled himself toward me. His head met my mouth. Did my teeth survive? I got up and ran to the bathroom to view the damage. Blood in my mouth--where's it coming from? A cut and swollen lip. Please let this day end with no more injuries. I applied ice and thankfully went to sleep. My teeth survived and, barely, so did I.
2 days ago