A long, long time ago, I can remember my mother telling me about growing up and becoming a lady. I distinctly recall her saying when I got a little older, there'd be fewer and fewer skinned knees. One day, all that would be a thing of the past as I attained my rightful place in society as a, dare I say it? A Southern Belle.
When, pray tell? When? I demand to know! When? 20? 30? Oh no maybe it was 40? Okay, maybe 50? Surely she can't have meant 60?
Mother wasn't wrong about many things, but today, I proved her wrong....again and for the second time this year, doing my training hike up a long steep grade, happy as a clam, seeing the branch up ahead and deciding to sprint over it, rather than to go around it. I could take that sucker!
I went up and over but failed to see a second limb, hiding behind the first, on my descent.
It was the Three Stoogies take a hike.
God must have a sense of humor because the next thing I knew, I was splat fully on the ground, writhing in pain and humiliation, but fully conscious. What a damn fool thing to do! So I rolled over, ultimately managing to sit up. Then I proceeded to have a good cry. I boo hoed for the first time in months.
The the skinned knee was one of my best.
I took out a tissue, blew my nose, wiped my eyes and proceeded to crawl back up, in fine Scarlett O'Hara style. Then, thank God, I was able to walk back to my car.
I realized coming back down the mountain, it's still happening because I never have quite mastered the southern belle thing, like Scarlett O'Hara.
Meanwhile, I'll being wearing either skirts or shorts to all upcoming social events. And working hard to bend my knees and stay upright!
Tomorrow is another day!
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