About Me

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I write novels, eat dark chocolate, raise three children, love my husband, scrub toilets, ignore the laundry, and love a good story, but hardly ever in that order.

OPERATION BONNET

STRETCH MARKS

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ACT TWO

BOTTOM LINE

BALANCING ACT

Friday, December 7, 2012

I Can't Help Falling....


I might be making this up, but I feel like there was a time when I still maintained my dignity. Admittedly, I blame a whole slew of life changes on childbirth, many of which I will not enumerate here because I would scare you off. But I think there was a time when I could still hold my head up in public and not fear that at any moment, I would make a complete fool of myself.

That time has gone the way of Z Cavariccis, Salon Selectives, and Depeche Mode. Nowadays I pick up my youngest child at preschool and end up doing this:
Photo source.

In a hallway crowded with parents and teachers. True, I wasn't wearing red bloomers, high heels or a mic pack. And there were no go-go dancers in the background. But everything else was the same. Thea was holding on to my legs, "hugging" me with force that apparently I am unable to withstand. I FELL OVER, BACK ON THE FLOOR, BOTH LEGS IN THE AIR.

One dad looked away with a nervous laugh, hoping that if he just didn't look at my feet and my sprawled position, perhaps it wasn't really happening at his son's preschool, where they learn innocent things like the Pledge of Allegiance and how to share Teddy Grahams.

Another dad, out of shock and pity, said with wide eyes, "That was awesome."

Which is a relief, because I was definitely going for awesome.
Photo source.

I do praise God I was not wearing a skirt.

Happy weekend, friends. May your rumps remain appropriately absconded and may you refrain from scarring fathers of preschoolers. Go in peace, knowing I will disrupt it at any second.

11 comments:

  1. Oh my word!!!!!!

    Lol on the Z Cavariccis. That's a brand I haven't thought about in a looooong time.

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  2. So nice to have you back at the blog! Sorry about your mishap and know that we are laughing "with" you not "at" you.
    If you think childbirth changed things, wait until menopause! ;)

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  3. ha ha ha ha (pause to take deep breath) Ahhh, ha, ha, ha, ha.....I would have certainly helped you off the floor, but I would have been belly laughting and then running to the bathroom after making sure you didn't need an ambulance. Oh dearest Kim, thank you for this nice unexpected laugh today. And, as Marge said, laughing WITH. And Dephe Mode never goes out of style, as does a woman who can fall on her tush and take it all in stride!

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  4. You are hilarious. Standing up AND lying on the floor.

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  5. You are all very sweet women.

    I just ran into one of the dads who witnessed my demise yesterday. I could barely make eye contact. He assured me he couldn't wait last night to tell his wife all about The Incident. His words to explain the depths of my despair to his wife: "You just couldn't pick a worse angle or a worse time."

    HONESTLY. I'm still blushing.

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  6. Oh I love a good fall, it is always followed by an even better laugh! You are hysterical and I am so sorry I missed it! I would have, like Julie, helped you up as I too like her, cracked up to the point of needed Depends! Where does our cool go I ask?

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  7. As someone whose half-slip has hit the floor TWICE in my lifetime (once in the mall, once in church, yes, while on the podium singing), I feel your pain. I'm hoping that's part of what gets wiped away in Heaven, along with the tears. Until then, well, it keeps me humble.

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  8. One night I was working a double shift at the local Macaroni Grill. In my left arm I was balancing three lasagne Bolognese & in the other a steaming bowl of spaghetti (same hometown). As I rounded the corner near the coffee machine, I hit a wet spot and in slow motion I was suddenly parallel to the floor.

    As I lay there, time frozen, I watched the four horsemen of the apastalpse rain down on me. The bad news was it was lunch time and I had 10 hours to go and no change of clothes. As if being covered in marinara from head to toe wasn't bad enough, the snickers began from the patron's while I was making espresso's.

    As I headed to the back room, a fellow server said, "What happened to you!"

    "Yes, I said, I know. I am covered in red sauce."

    "No, no, no, what happened to your pants?!?"

    As I whipped around I realized that for the last 45 min I had been mooning women and young children, as I had split the seams on my pants from stem to stern. Eager to return to modesty, I grabbed a staple gun and made some Frankensteinian improvements. Alas, they didn't hold and I had to supplement with duct tape and another apron to provide 360 degree coverage.

    Needless, to say I killed it on tips that day. Mostly, people were giving me money and making me promise to buy new pants.

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    Replies
    1. I CANNOT stop laughing.

      Oh, my gosh. I can't handle the duct tape. Poor, poor you.

      Thank you for putting my debacle into perspective, Matthew. At least I didn't need a staple gun.

      I will never look at Macaroni Grill's lasagna the same again.

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  9. Oh Kim. You are funny. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. :)

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  10. Love it. And love that you can laugh and then blog about it. Fantastic.

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