Monday, January 11, 2010
Some things don't change
Don't let it be said that you outgrow klutziness.
I'm living proof.
When I was a kid,
Children's Aid was beginning to have a large impact.
Teachers were encouraged to contact the organization
to report anything unusual with their students.
Imagine my mother's surprise
when a caseworker knocked at our door.
She introduced herself and told my mom that
my kindergarten teacher had noticed
that I was coming to school--quite often--
My mother was about to give this woman
more than just a piece of her mind, when
--with perfect timing--
I came tumbling down the stairs.
Head over heals,
landing in a big heap
right in front of the caseworker.
My mother looked at the woman,
raised an eyebrow,
and gestured to me with her hand,
in a 'voila!' sort of way.
The woman muttered an apology
the scenario was repeated.
Big heap, and all.
I missed the last step coming down the stairs,
and sprained my ankle.
As I screamed out in pain,
both the dog and TH came running.
One (perhaps both) of them
began licking my face,
making sure I was OK.
TH made it quite clear
that I was a walking disaster.
I was relegated to the sofa
for the duration of the weekend.
I wonder where that caseworker is now?