After posting about the elderly people on our cruise you'll find it ironic that I nearly sent myself into early retirement this week. I'd been cleaning up the house (I found food in the oddest of places--spaghetti sauce in my slippers?) and had just mopped the floor.
"Now, Lillian, be careful, the floor is very slipp--"
My feet flew up, my arms went out and down I came, full force flat on my backside. Not having done anything close to that in 20 years I laid there for a minute, mentally examining each point of pain for places where bones might be poking out.
Though I survived I'm left with purple bruises as a loving reminder of my grace and poise.
Fast forward to the next day when I was potting bulbs. Poking drainage holes in the bottom of the plastic pots, I noticed my finger was hurting. I ignored it until I put the scissors down and noticed blood mixing with the potting soil. I'd sliced the end of my finger and had packed enough soil into the open wound to start a small vegetable garden.
Rinsing, bleeding, drying, shaking, nothing worked to get the bits of soil out so I took a breath and tried scraping the pieces out. Problem was, pulling back the flap of skin and tweezing out dirt chunks is harder when you're bleeding profusely and it was at that point I noticed myself getting rather wobbly in the knees.
Lillian came upstairs to find her mother in the fetal position on the floor--eyes closed, hand wrapped in a towel and breathing deeply. She bent down and said gently, "Did you fall down again Mommy?"
No, but thanks for the concern. I'll give you a call when I'm drooling and need my diaper changed, evidently that day is right around the corner.
I'm hosting next weeks' Carnival of Family Life for November 13th. The deadline for submissions is midnight (Hawaii time) Sunday night the 12th. I look forward to reading your posts.
Technorati tags: Alaska, motherhood, accidents