I Can’t Help Falling….

I might be making this up, but I feel like there was a time when I still maintained my dignity. Admittedly, I blame a whole slew of life changes on childbirth, many of which I will not enumerate here because I would scare you off. But I think there was a time when I could still hold my head up in public and not fear that at any moment, I would make a complete fool of myself.

That time has gone the way of Z Cavariccis, Salon Selectives, and Depeche Mode. Nowadays I pick up my youngest child at preschool and end up doing this:

Photo source.

In a hallway crowded with parents and teachers. True, I wasn’t wearing red bloomers, high heels or a mic pack. And there were no go-go dancers in the background. But everything else was the same. Thea was holding on to my legs, “hugging” me with force that apparently I am unable to withstand. I FELL OVER, BACK ON THE FLOOR, BOTH LEGS IN THE AIR.

One dad looked away with a nervous laugh, hoping that if he just didn’t look at my feet and my sprawled position, perhaps it wasn’t really happening at his son’s preschool, where they learn innocent things like the Pledge of Allegiance and how to share Teddy Grahams.

Another dad, out of shock and pity, said with wide eyes, “That was awesome.”

Which is a relief, because I was definitely going for awesome.

Photo source.

I do praise God I was not wearing a skirt.

Happy weekend, friends. May your rumps remain appropriately absconded and may you refrain from scarring fathers of preschoolers. Go in peace, knowing I will disrupt it at any second.