It Only Hurts When I Smile

Couple of days ago I was visiting on the phone with my friend Brent and Sal comes in the room... "You talking to Brent?" Me "Yeah". There goes the phone... So she's chatting away with him and he's had a pretty serious accident a few weeks ago and Sally breaks out into an abbreviated version of "I live with MR. ACCIDENT". I'm sure much to Brent's delight. He likes stuff like that.

And it's true. I dunno, I don't think of myself as clumsy, but man... I sure seem to spend a lot of time banged up and bleeding. But the truly pitiful part of this accidental travesty that I've been saddled with... my family loves it.

When they all get together it just goes from one story to another "You remember when he fell out of the truck?" "You remember when he got beat up by the weedwhacker?" Etc etc and on and on.

And they laugh.

My accidents evidently are pure comic gold. I'm too busy fighting for my life to stop and think about what I must look like, but from the audience reaction here... I oughta be getting paid for it.

Several years ago I went down the basement steps in a very unorganized fashion. Oh I've done that before AND since, but this one is the story that gets told over and over and over and over and.....

This particular trip (hehe.. trip) started at the very tippy top stair. It ended 2 hours later when I finally quit falling down the damned stairs. Lordy.

I honestly can't tell you all the positions that I was in on the way down, but there was a lot of bumping and rolling and somersaults and it all stopped with my head on the concrete floor of the basement and my butt on the second from the bottom step and my legs and feet pointing up the stairs... kinda like a Picasso painting. All willy nilly like but still fastened all together... both eyeballs on the same side of my nose.

Upstairs in the living room were my beloved bride, my wonderful daughter, and my ever so concerned and loving son. I remember it being very still and quiet up stairs while I lay in the basement slowly dying of a ruptured horseangle.

Finally I hear footsteps above me, the basement door slowly opens letting a beam of heavens light shine down on my broken and battered body.

Sally: *long silence* ..... Honey?

Me: Ghuuuu

Sally: Honey? *that noise you make when you hold back a laugh but it sounds like you're blowing your nose*

Me: Arnnnnn

Sally: Sweetheart? *long pause* Are you okay?

Upstairs Nicky and Jake must have something hilarious on the TV 'cause they both started laughing. Loudly.

Sally: Is that your head on the floor down there?

Me: I think I must be bleeding somewhere 'cause it hurts like I should be bleeding.

Sally: Can you wiggle your legs honey?

Me: I need a glass of water.

Jake: *popping his 13 year old head thru the doorway beside his mom* Hey Buddy! *laughter*

Me: This sucks. I've got to finish falling down the stairs before I can even get up.

And I kinda roll around and bump down a couple more stairs and finally get into a position where I can pull myself up.

Jake: *announcing to his sister on the couch, 'cause her mom told her not to come and look 'cause she's laughing too hard* HE'S STANDING UP!

I make my way up the stairs, everyone goes and sits on the couch, hands in their laps... like THAT'S normal. I fall into my recliner and just sit and do my impersonation of a bruised turd. A long silence falls over the living room with everyone just staring at the floor with a glassy look in their eyes. Finally Sally says. "You shoulda heard it from up here." "It was "ohhhh nooooo" and then BUMP BUMP "*&*^*%" BUMP AHHHHHHHIEEEEE BUMP &$#%$$#* BUMP &*(&%$# AAAAHHHHHHH(*&%% BUMP BUMP BUMP .... and then silence."

Eh, I didn't break anything, I've got a knack to just let it go and take the fall after all my experience with it. I hardly ever get more than bruises and a little blood once in awhile. lol And it ended up being a family favorite story. Oh well...

I'll tell you sometime 'bout getting wiped offa the lawnmower by the mailbox.




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