Sunday, February 13, 2011

Cool Store Window and Aging, Part 567

Silverlake, Los Angeles

I was walking down the street with Oliver today, listening to his constant stream of chatter, on the way back from the nearby stationary and gift store where we were looking for valentines. In the same instant that I inwardly noticed how sore my feet felt, even though I was wearing The Clogs, I tripped on some minuscule bit of sidewalk that jutted up, and I went down spectacularly, landing on my hands and knees. I almost NEVER fall, so I'm going to add it to the list of new experiences due to aging. After showing much compassion and helping me up, Oliver demonstrated what I looked like as I fell, and it wasn't pretty, to say the least. What is it about falling that is so damn ridiculous that it brings tears to one's eyes?  Oliver also told me that now you know how much it hurts when I fall, Mom, and I said, No, it probably hurts a whole lot more because I'm big and old, Oliver, and he nodded and agreed to carry my purse home as I hobbled the rest of the way.

15 comments:

  1. Falling DOES make us feel ridiculous which is ridiculous because gravity calls us all the damn time.
    Are you okay?

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  2. falling is so humbling.
    although the part where i am free flying, before of course colliding with the earth...
    it is strangely freeing.

    i hope you are alright....and your sons are massaging you!

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  3. Oh dear--hope you are o.k.! If I must fall, I prefer to do so unobserved and alone! = (

    Best,
    Bonnie

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  4. I know it's not funny but I'm giggling. Oliver has a way about him, I can't help it.

    But I'm sorry you fell, it hurts more in public.

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  5. I feel on ice a month ago. And as I feel, I tried holding on to my son, and down he came too. He was not amused by the coziness of our double fall. And we were both sore.

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  6. It's the adrenaline rush that accompanies a fall that I find worst of all, and the fear of those broken bones, Elizabeth. I'm glad you were spared. And shared the company of 'Sir' Oliver on the way home. Commiserations.

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  7. I love that interaction.
    I love that he imitated you falling, and then the words between the two of you. So funny and sweet and real.
    And him carrying your purse.

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  8. It goes without saying that I'm not happy you fell.
    It's not old age, it's sidewalks and clogs.

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  9. OUCH! Hoping you don't have any residual effects. Completely relate to the awful ridiculousness of it all. I'm glad I never had a son to re-enact it for me...

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  10. P.S. Although there is something to be said for sons growing up and growing big and strong enough to pick us up when we get REALLY old... and aren't you glad I'm around to offer this bit of encouragement?

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  11. This post made me laugh. Not at your expense, but at your honesty -- sharing your fall and humiliation with us.

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  12. David Cassidy? Wow, takes me back! You even had on THE clogs? I don't know what to tell you, then! I'm counting on mine perhaps more than is reasonable!

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  13. I slipped on the ice the other day, walking out my front door. Went down hard. I was wearing my clogs too.
    ouchie

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  14. i should let you know that my children call my clogs my "trip shoes" as in, "are you wearing your trip shoes mom? oh, here let me hold your hand as we cross this street then."

    those shoes are easy to step into but you have to watch out for phantom bits of sidewalk.

    Oliver is a good man in a pinch!

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  15. Ohhh. Getting caught up with your blog. Hope by now you are soaring not falling. Ow. I am afraid of falling.

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