The day I fell on my ass.

First of, it hurts.  I still have a dull numbness in my right butt cheek, convinced that I have bruised the tender tissue of my ass beyond repair. I am waiting for the green/blue/purple mark to spread like a tattoo-gone-bad all over my posterior region.

Feels like I sat on a can for seventy-three hours or barely survived a one on one with a WWF juggernaut.  And I am talking about a cage fight scenario, you twisted people.

It all happened very innocently.  I was getting out of the shower, grabbed the towel to cover all my hanging parts as my lovely children have a habit of barging in wanting to share their daily program with dad.  Believe me, you only have to see the shock on their faces once, when they surprise naked dad.  At 6″4′ it might as well be literally in their faces.

Anyhow…

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This is not what I meant with lying on the floor with my eyes closed.
Photo courtesy of http://www.freedigitalphotos.net

I took a few steps to the left to continue the routine to ensure that once I leave the house I will be accepted by the general populace.  You know, shaving, brushing my teeth, those things that distinguish  us from apes, dogs and homeless people.  Unbeknownst to me I left a trial of wet footsteps, similar to the bread crumbs left by Hansel and Gretel.  If I knew and realised I was doing it, I am convinced I would have heard the little droplets in the puddles squirming with excitement, knowing that one day, they will bring the giant down.

Next up is getting dressed, thus by implication, losing the towel, which I semi-successfully draped around my waist.  It’s six steps.  I do the math.  There is a decision to make.  Do I walk with the towel to the closet and risk scaring my children for the rest of their lives or do I walk get my clothes, walk back to my room and then only get dressed their in the privacy of our sanctuary.  I am a guy, so I drop the towel and dash. Two steps.

The water puddles left by my size 11 feet didn’t do me any favours.  It scooped my feet right from under me and down came naked dad, thrashing to the floor.  There had to be a moment in suspension when I defied gravity and experienced weightlessness, because I had enough time to consider my options, realised there was none and closed my eyes.  I fell with a BANG!

After landing unceremoniously hard, I thought I broke my pelvis, and the stinging pain in my right arm tried to compete with my sympathy.  Two body parts playing tug of war with the same nerve trying to get attention from the pain receptors on my brain.  My ass won.

The most amazing thing about people falling is the speed at which they get up again.  It’s like I suddenly turned into a naked Flash and milliseconds later I was standing bent over, with a draped towel around my waist again!  Damn you Adam and Eve for forcing modern man to consider covering nakedness as a primal instinct above sleep, pain and hunger.

I walked to my closet, slower than I thought possible, trying to stand straight to recover some dignity.  It didn’t work, I only managed to lean against it, semi-naked, clenching my right butt cheek.  Fortunately no-one saw me.

Wait a minute, is that my wife laughing?

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10 thoughts on “The day I fell on my ass.

  1. Did you look around to blame the bath mat…. I love when people fall and then they look back behind them and shake their heads trying to lay blame on an object that they believe has jumped out and attacked them 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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