Murphy’s Law says, “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.” Write about a time everything did — fiction encouraged here, too!
A number of years back my children went to stay with their grandparents for a few weeks, it was my first time AC (After Children) that I had actually been alone for more than an hour! I had six weeks of activities planned that included roller blading, biking, dancing, partying, you know how it is, all the things one does when you don’t have to worry about anyone but yourself.
Day one I laced up my oldest daughters’ roller blades and gave them a whirl. After only a few minutes I decided that those cheap old things were way too rough, I was already starting to get a headache from the sidewalk bumpiness, so I decided to go buy myself a new, good pair. Off I went and came back with some smooth running blades.
Day two, I laced up my new blades, leashed up my dogs and headed out. I got to the end of my driveway, which was exactly the length of one car, and as I stood waiting for a car to go by I fell. Man did that hurt my knee! Never one to let a little pain stop me I hauled myself up and carried on. I was going along very well until again I had to stop, now, I had never roller bladed before, and hadn’t skated since I was about eleven, and that was only a handful of times, so I wasn’t really sure of the best way to stop. Apparently landing on my ass isn’t it! Okay, that hurt too!
I picked myself up and carried on, determined to get better at it. I managed to rollerblade along quite well, even stopping a few times while keeping my feet on the ground, but then I had to stop to let a couple pass me by, stopped okay, but they were taking their time and as I waited at a standstill I started to lose my balance. It was a tradgedy in slow motion… my arms started to windmill, I was teetering back and forth, and very slowly but without cease, my wheels slipped out from under me. The look on the couples face was priceless while I was going down, and as I lay in a heap on the sidewalk they just stood over me and laughed. Of course I laughed at myself too and after pulling myself up I told them I was so happy I was able to amuse them. I could still hear them laughing as I spirited my bruised ego (among other things) away.
I carried on, sore and a little weary, and made my way home, almost there, about two-hundred feet left to go and again I stopped for some reason and again I went down. There was no laughing that time, I heard a tearing noise along with a searing pain in my knee, and I was done. I sat there on the sidewalk for a few minutes, stealing myself against the pain, tears running freely down my face, wondering how the hell I was getting out of that one. I treid to get up and couldn’t get those blades under me, I had to take off the roller blades and hobble the rest of the way home in sock feet. By the time I got home, my knee no longer resembled a knee, but looked more like an over inflated purple balloon.
Of course, I took myself to the sports clinic where my knee was ex-rayed and wrapped and I was told to stay off my feet and keep the leg up as much as possible for the next six to eight weeks, nothing more strenuous than walking to my car or hobbling around my home.
Go figure, my first six weeks free in ten years and I wasn’t supposed to do a damn thing! Please! I still went dancing, but ten years later I still haven’t gotten back on the roller blades!