Yep. In my attempts to playfully kick my man’s booty from behind as he took the position to make his move at the pool table, my own booty took the hit instead.
It was a beautiful sight I would imagine. My right leg going up to tap his butt, while my left heel found itself in my pant leg, giving me the perfect slide right under me, comically bringing me to the floor in one not so graceful swoop. There I was with only the stem of a wine glass, red wine all over the floor, broken glass and me flat on my back with a puzzled look on my face.
It was in this moment that I realized what I had been saying all my life is true. I never have epic falls worth anything. When I crashed on my bike, there was no one around. In fact, I wasn’t even moving on it. I was at a stoplight. When I tripped walking into a grocery store, there was no bump or object in front of me. There was nothing, just me. When I sprained my ankle, it wasn’t from doing a gnarly kick making the winning goal, it was an ankle roll from wearing high heels.
It’s no wonder when Mike came to help me that it took all of him to not laugh. “My clumsy baby.” I hear these words all the time in my household. The kids came running with so much concern for the loud crash they heard and I was embarrassed. It was so anticlimactic, which is like most of my clumsy acts. No, I did not feel cool. No, I did not take one for the team. No, this girl typically doesn’t fall in likely situations.