Enjoyed an old fashioned sleepover with my great nephews (both a noun and an adjective in this case) last night which began with a winter walk (after, of course, feeding them because I am not totally unfamiliar with the care and feeding of growing boys). The walk started with anticipated exuberance on all our parts. Just after guessing who would go down first on what was at times a solid sheet of ice masquerading as a road, I took the fun out of the guess by “taking a knee”. After reaching our destination 3 miles into the journey, it hit one nephew that “ahhh now we have to walk all the way back” and none of us relished returning to the “sidewalk” of crunchy ice cubes we had had to maneuver on the way. Like thirsty souls striving to reach a desert oasis, we began to focus on the hot chocolate we knew awaited us. We also appreciated the cleared sidewalks of downtown until…
I took the corner by the bank and what looked clear wasn’t. The eldest nephew saw the fall and gave me a 10 for the fact that my feet were even with my face when I landed. I was thankful for a) not knowing it was happening until I gasped for air on contact with the concrete, b) the heavy down coat and hood plus three layers of clothes that softened the blow, and c) those two precious souls who immediately surmised that we were going to have to carefully arrange for my return to the vertical state as we weren’t finding any traction on the patch of ice where my dignity lay prostrate.
Prior to my loss of grace, I had overheard the two discussing who was the victor in the contest related to falls. While I knew they meant the least, the dramatist in me couldn’t be denied as they worriedly look down on me (successfully containing the teenaged grins that would soon feel safe enough to escape) and so I whispered, “I win” figuring I should get points for both quantity and quality!
As we concluded our trek I learned that a passerby had witnessed the affair and the boys watched him guffaw at the fall. I told them the driver of the truck only got a pass from me if he had guessed that I was their age. Leaving a 53 year old on the ground was not the act of a Southern gentleman! Fortunately, my niece and her hubby are raising two fine examples! #Day6AndNowWatchingSnowMelt