: bandaids are not your friend :


They will out you. First chance they get, those buggers scream, ‘clumsy bonehead walking.’ And you can’t deny it, because the damn proof is right there, stuck to your knee or forehead or wherever. Of course, once the Bandaid has everyone’s attention, the questions start. What did you do? Are you hurt? Why aren’t you more careful? Don’t you ever think?

Telling and retelling the same shameful story is more painful than falling. People don’t want short, simple answers, such as ‘I fell’ or ‘I cut myself.’ They want details. Humiliating, mortifying details that haul your judgment into question. I ‘m not a fan of the question stage. It doesn’t build confidence.

Long story short, I fell. I took the dog out for a walk and, fwip,  took my own little side-trip onto the pavement. Hurtling headlong for the sidewalk, my one thought was: oh, crap, this is gonna hurt. When I hit the ground, hard and on all fours, I thought: heh, that wasn’t so bad. Nothing was broken, nothing was dislocated or sprained, blood wasn’t spurting. My knee bore the brunt and it was scraped fairly raw, but in the grand scheme of things, meh.

Frankly, I was proud of having survived virtually intact. Thus ennobled, I looked up from my graceless sprawl on the sidewalk and there it was. A full audience. A goggle-eyed road crew gaped instead of working; traffic idled at all four stoplights; a young couple stood frozen in mid-step. In that microsecond, I seriously considered jumping up and bowing to the crowd. But I couldn’t, I was too embarrassed. Jumping, too, would’ve been problematic.

I scampered home, instead, doused my knee with peroxide, and let it air-dry. After a shower, I opted to forego the Bandaids. I don’t want them out there, grabbing eyeballs and branding me an accident waiting to happen. People already know I’m a klutz, I don’t hide it. So how about we all agree I’m a reckless doofus and then move on. Deal?

Thanks to my au naturel strategy, only two people have noticed my scabby knee in the days following my misadventure and they seemed mighty indifferent. So no more Bandaids for me. And never again will I buy The Incredibles bandages, those things are eye magnets. If I had my druthers, though, I’d take agile over everything. It’s good to dream.

 

copyright © 2019 the whirly girl

8 Responses to “: bandaids are not your friend :”

  1. Straddle the Turtle

    I’m so sorry. 🤭 I have experienced similar pain & humiliation while walking my doggies (two big ones at the same time). It usually happens when they see bunnies and their pull is so sudden and strong I hit the ground flat out before I can let go of their leashes. But one time they got so excited about a lose puppy dog they circled round & round me til I was basically hog-tied standing up…until I toppled over on my back. Luckily I was able to tuck into a sort of roll to soften my landing. Fortunately for the most part I don’t need bandages, the wear & tear is mainly internal – you know, wrecked shoulders, pulled back muscles, that kind of thing…

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • the whirly girl

      At least you have the comfort of an excuse. I don’t. The dog weighs nothing and she doesn’t pull on the leash or burst into a run. It’s me. I’ve no coordination whatsoever and little equilibrium. At this stage I don’t expect I’ll ever stop falling, but I would like to mitigate the damage. I still want someone to invent clothing with airbags. That way I’d bounce when I landed, probably right into oncoming traffic. Ai-yi-yi. Maybe we can be roommates in the Orthopedic Ward? You know we’d have a blast!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  2. SilkPurseProductions

    I can not tell you how much I love who you are! All your stumbles and fumbles and mishaps is like a bitchslap reality check to all those perfect little lives out there. My falls tend to spread eagle (if you know what I mean). As I got older I had to stop wearing dresses and skirts for fear of scarring little children’s psyches when they witnessed one of my humiliations.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • the whirly girl

      You’re straight up wonderful, you know that? Your comment made my week — maybe my year. Laugh out loud terrific❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

      Just so you don’t feel alone: I spent a lot of my twenties with my skirt flying over my head while I fell. In my thirties, I switched to Levi’s (both short and long) where I’ll remain until the day I die. Most likely in a bus / pedestrian accident 🙄

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

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