December 08, 2007
Watch her walk, watch her slip
My feet will be my undoing. I just know it. I could not count the number of times I have slipped, twisted my ankle, landed on my butt, tumbled, slid down a hill and fell from a flight of stairs - most of them with the benefit of the public as witnesses, mind you - owing to the fact that I can't seem to take control of my feet. A friend of mine once said I was flat-footed. Whatever that means, disaster seems to follow me around.
The latest incident took place yesterday as my stepson and I were walking home from the grocery store. It had snowed the day before and so the sidewalks were a bit slippery. As we passed by the gasoline station, my feet gave me about 1.5 seconds to realize what was coming. All I could distinctly remember were my hands flailing in the air and six packs of pancit canton flying everywhere. Of course, it happened at a time when a lot of people were filling up their tanks. Also, the gasoline station is conveniently located at a busy intersection so I gave the passing motorists quite a show.
So what do you do when you have turned yourself into a public spectacle? You laugh. The key is to laugh first before the others could. Trust me, it will make you feel... less shamed. So I basked in my five minutes of ungracefulness as I picked up my grocery items, brushed the snow off my coat and continued walking. My stepson and I laughed ourselves silly over what happened all the way home.
That night I made the husband swear not to laugh if I told him a little story about clumsiness. He broke out laughing before I could even finish my embarrassing narrative. So much for sympathy, eh?
Barring snow and slippery roads, I can pretty much hold myself up - most of the time.