Breathe In, Breathe Out

I'm sure you've done something in your life, something stupid, that caused someone close to you to say "Someday you will look back on this and laugh." Well, I'm still waiting for the laughter. Here, I'm going to do my best to force it along. I'm going to tell you how I put a dent in my shin.

It was spring, about 3 years ago, and since the birds started nesting that spring there was a Robbin (at least I think it was a Robbin) trying to make a home in a bush next to my front steps. Every time I came and went the bird would get upset. It started leaving landmines on the steps as if it was trying to deter me from walking up them. Everyday I would wash off the steps.

One day I was watering the grass as to have it nice and green before the heat of summer killed the lawn. I spent the day moving the sprinkler from spot to spot. The finial spot was in front of the deck, it was watering the lawn and the front bushes and the front steps.

At the end of the day, nighttime, I came out of the house to put away the sprinkler. I walked down the steps, in my flip-flops, and planted my right foot on the bottom step. The bottom step on which there was a poo, a bird poo, that I had missed when hosing off the steps. My foot slipped and I went falling to earth and landed on my belly (thankfully I was fat at the time or it would have done damage).

My belly didn't take the only impact however, my right leg landed on the edge of the second step. I was sure I did major damage to my leg. It was hot, red, bruising, and I could barely walk. I was in so much pain that I had my sister come over to look at it. I couldn't tell her the whole story, but she didn't need to know that now. We decided that I didn't need to go to the ER, so I went to the doctors the next day and nothing was broken. I just smashed the netting of issue that covers the shin or something like that.

It took about a year for the shin to stop feeling hot to the touch and about 2 years for the bruise to heal. There is still a dent in my leg, but as I exercise and lose weight it keeps getting more and more shallow.

That bird never saw me fall. It dropped the bomb and left, giving up on living there. But thanks to him, his poo, a wet step, and tractionless flip-flops I am reminded of the pain of unscripted slapstick every time I see my leg in the mirror.

See, I can't laugh at it; if I could it would be a funnier story. At least I can talk about it. Anyway I'm going to end this with a finial thought, I believe it was Mark Twain that said, "A man that is able to laugh at himself will never want for amusement"...or maybe it was Shirely MacLaine.