As I sit here, foot raised up on a chair, pondering
All I did was walk down the hall, into my bedroom
As I came out of my room, there is Lucifer at the other end
My mind envisions my kicking the ball with all the talent
I stop the ball with my knees (because I am so talented), and
I take a couple small practice swings with my leg. Intimidating
I wind up, ohhhh the anticipation in Lucifers eyes, his whole
The wind whistles as my leg draws forward quickly and
*C R A C K*
All is quiet for a moment. In shock I look down at the ball.
That's when the pain closed in, the basket of clothes sailed
Of course his first reaction was to laugh his ass off. I mean
Valiantly I hide any tears and struggle to choke out a laugh.
Alas I am brave!!! After two hours, the throbbing slows, but
Mr Happy came home within 1/2 hour. Calls for me upstairs.
True to the sit-com form in which my life portrays, he walked
Like a ROCKET I bolt up from my lying down position in a howl
I doubt it's broken, maybe... fractured a little, it's the next
morning and it still refuses to bend.... but of course, it's
My soccer injury now joins my bear and mountian lion attack
Sometimes I surprise even myself.
ballet lessons, I'm reminded yet again that perhaps
I'm not cut out for sports, coordination activities, or
even chewing gum while walking. It's just too much
of a committment to do two things at once. Being
a mother, that's a sacrelige to admit.
to get the next load of laundry in my basket. Filled
it, singing Chumbawambah (which, by the way, makes
me not only a young, cool HIP mother, but also very
with the 90's. I know, it's not the 90's anymore, I lag)
of the hall, kicking his soccer ball around. He sees me and
hoofs it a good one down the hall to me. My arms are laden
with a heavy basket, but I'm up to the challenge.
skill and precision of a professional player, thus proving to
my youngest son, that his mother is indeed a sports force to
be reckoned with.
smile at the demon at the end of the hall. He prepares to
block what he knows with be a forceful, well aimed kick.
The basket rests against my hip, because I can easily hold
it while duelling my son at soccer.
my opponent. I tap the soccer ball with my toe, sending
menancing looks down the hall. And like Babe Ruth, I point
to where the ball will go, far over his head, like the wind it will
sail, and I will forever be remembered as the Goddess of
Soccer.
body tenses waiting for the force of the ball that he will do
everything to try to block. My leg moves behind me and I
let go with a huge kick.
sharply, over the ball my foot sails, missing it completely and
seconds later makes direct contact with a headboard we have
leaning against the wall in the hallway.
I KNOW it saw my foot coming, and in terror and fear, it
actually MOVED to avoid the devastating blow it would have
received. I also know, that it had an unspoken agreement with
the oak headboard leaning against the wall.... "when she
swings, move out!"
through the air, raining laundry, socks landing on my head as
I did the Indian dance of "OHMYGODTHATHURTS"
in my hallway, hugging the walls, shouting incoherent
phrases, all while Lucifer slowly walks up to me, straining to
see my face, searching for tears before he allows his first
reactions to be shown.
picture it. I go to hoof the ball and kick the crap out of a
piece of wood. I throw the basket in the air, I dance, I
quote Homer Simpson with 32 "DOH"'s
what a vision to a 7 year old. What a vision to ANYONE.
He laughs uncertainly. The throbs permeating from my
toe were excrutiating, as I casually reach to pull socks off
my head, and towels from the stucco ceiling.
even POINTING at my foot caused seizures. I managed to
get the demons to bed and went downstairs to lie down on
the couch. Earlier in the day I had been suffering a small
tummy ache. As I lie on the couch I decide I'd rather have that
back. I close my eyes and rest a little.
Realizes I'm DOWNstairs. Down he comes, tired from his
busy workday, unaware of the misfortune I had suffered.
Bolts into the room and right over to the couch before I could
even say a word. My foot is out of the covers hanging over the
edge of the couch.
over, gave my foot a whack and say "Hey there, how's your
tummy feeling?"
that would make the most dominant wolf in the arctic jealous,
while Mr Happy stands there looking at me in confusion. On
and on I stood there, face raised to the sky, howling until they
turned into whimpers. When I was quiet, I sat down again,
looked at the totally perplexed Mr Happy, and just said...
"So how was your day?"
a SPORTS injury and sports injuries are pretty cool.
It means you're athletic, your drive for excellence allows you
to take harrowing chances to succeed at higher and higher
levels.
hall of fame.
Take me home!
Main Dave's Chronicles