Do you ever just.....struggle?
Is it just me?
I will never forget one of my youth that I led a group for looking over at me once and saying, "You need help." It was both an observation and a statement. Years before, while stumbling around at a fast food restaurant, trying to put an order together (my high school part time job), a manager, while leaning against a counter doing what he called 'supervising', made the comment that hiring people of my 'intellect' was very entertaining....they were fun to watch. He didnt' say it in precisely that way, but you get the idea. This, too, was not a compliment.
A few years ago, I was worried that this might be genetic. We had a set of four stairs in our former home, which was a multi-level establishment, that my children could not descend without tripping up them. That's right...UP them. They weren't falling down, they were falling up...and physically I'm not even sure that's posible, but they did it....almost daily. I would hear them running all the way up fourteen stairs from the basement perfectly, turn the corner and fall up the other four. Boom, boom, boom.....each time followed with either an, "OWW!" or a, "DANG IT!"
But it caused me to question...did they get this....from....ME?
I hoped not. But there is underlying evidence that they did. Take my wedding for example, the first one. Picture yours truly, dressed in white and looking for all the world like the perfect bride (even though my sleeves were way too puffy). The lovely room we were to be married in was packed with friends and family. I had but one small staircase to climb, and I entered the room. I could see faces of my future in-laws that I'd only seen in pictures, as they smiled encouragingly at me...."Here Comes the Bride", and what not. The last thing I remembered was thinking to myself, "Oh...that must be Cousin Rick and his wife, Lisa...." and then....Splatsville. I tripped UP the stairs. Oh, yes I did.
Moving out of that house seemed to solve that particular problem. Although we have other issues. Unexplained ketchup stains on the ceiling of the kitchen from, the kids say, when the ketchup bottle 'went flying out of someone's hands for no reason' as they were trying to pass the condiment during dinner to the person sitting right next to them....
We are so used to the sound of dishes breaking that we're not even worried if someone's mad anymore...and we're tired of clapping, like they do at all the fun Italian restaurants when someone drops a tray....it's old news. Tile floors were not a great choice for us in our eating area, either. Although I detest carpeting in either a kitchen or beneath a dining room table....we need it. The buffer would save a lot of glassware. Last Christmas my thoughtful son TJ bought me a set of twelve plexiglass tumblers...they can hit the floor at top speeds, and we won't have to sweep anything up afterwards. Great idea.
When I told a friend of mine that is somewhat of a mystic and a spiritualist my 'sign', she immediately asked if I was a 'klutz'. Seriously....? Even the alignment of the stars is against me, here? You've just gotta be kidding. Even my 'sign' won't give me a break.
I take comfort in the fact that this....ailment....is not just limited to the human race. I would have never thought such a thing, had I not been treated to one of the funniest of observations. While recently taking a walk, a cat that ran across my path got spooked, reversed directions, and ran back.... right smack into a wooden fence. It acted a bit dazed for a second or two, then shook itself off and ran away. And I suddenly realized-- between fits of laughter-- that the animal kingdom had klutzes, too. It wasn't just us. How did they do, survival-wise? I had no way to tell right then, but that would be a rather interesting study. Although how to conduct it would be uncertain. Dead animals tell no tales. Flat squirrels on the roadways can't disclose to you if they were a klutz in their former life. I guess if you asked them, and it were true, (and if they could talk to you from the Great Beyond...or, I'm forgetting, if they could talk at all...) their answer would go like this: "I used to be....!"
I wish I could say that this phenomenon was limited to tripping and bumping into things, with the occasional dropping of good china on occasion....Alas, it is not. At least three times that I know of, I've gone out in public with something on inside-out. One of the worst instances was to discover that I'd done this with the pants I was wearing....during intermission....at a formal concert.
I was thinking those inside-out years were all behind me the other day, laughing to myself about those 'good old times', as I strolled into the grocery store in my cute little white down vest. Something must have made me think of this, by way of a subconscious clue, because I looked down and discovered...you guessed it.....Inside-Outsville. Meaning, I haven't outgrown it yet. And since I'm pretty much middle-aged....it's not looking too good.
Although I can take heart in knowing that when I join my friend the squirrel in the Great Beyond, when someone asks me if I'm a 'klutz', I can say with a smile, "No....but I used to be.....!"