Another tidbit of wisdom from the Casa.

If you happen to enjoy running and racing and are a tad bit competitive...

Don't go to Lowe's very early on a cold Saturday morning in April and let your spouse park in the very back of the lot (aka Hinterlands) and get your small daughter out of the car and take off running with her while yelling "Let's beat the boys!"

Sweet little daughter (who is quite speedy) will jump on the bandwagon and yell "We're going super fast! Run faster Mommy! Run faster! Let's beat the booyyys!"

Running through that parking lot with my speedy little girl shrieking with pleasure was amazingly fun and exhilarating. I should have been content with that. Should is the key word here.

But the boys! They were catching us. Closer and closer they came. Closing the gap until I could see David just a few feet behind my right shoulder. With only about 30 feet from the front door and victory almost ours I realized I had only one option as I saw it. I sped up even faster dragging Caroline with me and...

CUT THEM OFF!

Fast, hard, I hooked to the right to shove them back behind us. Then something went wrong. Terribly wrong. I felt/saw Caroline lose her footing and in horror realized that I was going down too. With no control. At top speed. On the asphalt. In the Lowe's parking lot. I couldn't even break my fall. It was too fast. And my daughter was down. And it was SO my fault.

Duh! What was I thinking?!?

I finally realized that I was flat on the ground and not going to fall any further down, but I couldn't move. David grabbed Caroline and looked at me with a mix of deep concern and "I'm not racing with you in parking lots ever again!" while Parker busied himself collecting the contents of my purse that had erupted upon contact with the ground.

Caroline and I (with the help of the boys) made it to some patio furniture on display and parked ourselves. (All the while I am trying to pretend the nonexistentance of the concerned onlookers who have beeen watching this foolish stunt.) I try to convince Caroline that kissing and patting my injured knees doesn't feel very good but thank you for taking care of me and David and Parker go in to find the landscaping block glue that we needed. At this point I am certain that David is thinking "It's amazing. I think my wife could injure herself with a plastic bowl of lime jello and a koosh ball."

Thankfully Caroline recovered (for the most part) quickly. It was a cold morning and we both had on jeans and jackets that protected the skin on our knees and hands. One week later, I still have purple, yellow and green knees and a sheepish expression whenever I have to explain why I am not moving quite normally.

"...tad bit competitive..."??? BWA-HA-HA!!!!

Oh yeah, right..... ha!

::muffled giggling::

Glad to see you can still walk!

Thanks. I think. Only a bit of purple and red left.

Wanna race?

:)

Not even if I were wearing a padded jumpsuit....

It doesn't take a genius to figure out which one of us would win something like that. It would obviously be you and I would be the one who would go home in a wheelchair. Of course, just watching a race like this would be high-dollar entertainment for someone, don't you think?

Angie, even if you were to race her and win (remember that she can't pivot around obstacles with a bad knee), she'd still claim that she won. I know this from experience. So I'd say stick to making fun of her from the sidelines.

Hey, Rita! Thanks for this pertinent advice. I'm quicker verbally than I am physically anyway! Especially while wearing a padded jumpsuit.