Friday, January 12, 2007
My hubby is not the most graceful human being. He was quite the sports hero in his youth, and he was a big bad buff (active) Marine for 6 years, but in the last 10 years, he has become a little...well...clumsy.
I suppose that he's been a little clumsy his whole life, but as he gets older, I worry more. Those little trips and falls will cause a lot more pain and agony (for BOTH of us) as he gets older. I should probably mention that BOTH of us are VERY squeamish...I've already been told to call my buddy E whenever something happens, so she can be the CONSCIOUS rational thinking person...since it won't be B or I!
B is covered in scars from all of his escapades...some from getting hurt by doing something stupid, and some from, well, just tripping over his own feet.
In high school, he was walking back to his desk in math after turning in a paper when he tripped and fell THROUGH a plate glass window. They have since replaced all of those type of windows.
In the Marines, the guys were screwing around in the halls of the dorm (that NEVER happens, right?)...they soaped up the floors, then ran and slid down them...something a 6'1" clumsy man should never do...and B slid his head RIGHT INTO a door jam. Now, the man doesn't have much hair, so the 4" scar on the side of his melon is pretty obvious!
THEN (yes, there's more), when we were dating, I sent him for more butter on the popcorn during a movie, and as he was leaving the theater he tripped on the step and sent popcorn AND himself flying. I couldn't help it, I laughed...I think it was just a snicker until he picked himself up and left the theater, but then a big GUFFAW came out. I made sure he was ok when he came back, and we both giggled a little...and he STILL married me.
Now, at this theater fiasco, he was wearing a pair of leather mocassins...not exactly shoes you should wear out of the house. He's had these mocassins FOREVER, and he will NEVER get rid of them...I've resigned myself to that fact.
Well, the mocassins came into play again this morning. We are the middle of a "winter storm" which means there's ice on the ground, it's 15 degrees outside, and we'll probably lose power sometime over the weekend. I'm a big wimp, so I decided to work from home today instead of brave the icy interstate. So, B, being the GREAT hubby he is, ventured out to get the newspaper for me this morning...in the mocassins. Did I mention that they have a SLICK leather bottom??
As he's out there, I'm thinking, I hope he doesn't fall and hit his head on the front steps, but I just sat there typing away on my laptop. About 5 minutes later, he comes limping in and throws the newspaper at my feet and says, "I fell down."
I jump up and ask him, "Are you ok??! Where did you fall?"
"On the sidewalk," he says, "the puppies couldn't see me, they couldn't help me....AAhhh!"
Our dogs sit by the storm door and watch EVERYTHING that goes by all day long...except for B when he falls down.
Being the helpful wife that I am, I say, "See, you should have put those ice walker things on that your mom gave you. Are you hurt?"
"If I was a 60 year old, I'd have a broken hip right now," he says as he hobbles into the basement to lick his wounds.
What's going to happen when he IS 60??