Yesterday, I walked out to my car, keys in my right hand, SLIPPED next to my car, and was unable to catch myself because I refused to use the hand holding the keys to catch myself (on my newish car). Can you imagine putting a key line on your own car? Too horrible to contemplate. I fell instead. Better to sacrifice my knees. And, OH, were they sacrificed. VERY painful. But, Matt (my 8-year-old) was with me, so I sucked it up and laughed it off instead of boo hooing and wallowing headfirst in the snow, like I wanted to.
Today, I walked out to the car again with both my sons. I made sure the boys were getting in the back seat (so I thought) and walked around to the driver's side. My neighbor was wobbling around in the snow around HER car and barely caught herself before she fell. We caught each other's eyes and laughed and shared falling stories.
I heard a tiny voice say, "Mom, lock the door."
"What? Who said that?"
The voice again, "MOM, lock the door!"
(I catch on slowly.) "THOMAS? Is that YOU? WHERE ARE YOU?" Seriously, I realized I couldn't see him anywhere. He's 12 and was wearing a florescent hat, very easy to spot.
Matt chimes in, "Mom, he FELL."
The poor boy was huddled practically under the car because he slipped trying to open the front passenger door, WHILE I WAS LAUGHING WITH MY NEIGHBOR ABOUT FALLING STORIES.
Yeah. I felt terrible. He just wanted me to lock the door so he could use the handle as leverage to get up. That's right. He didn't want me to come over and help him. All I had to do was lock the door. Oh yeah. AND NOTICE HE WAS ON THE GROUND.
I am a bad, bad mom.