Tuesday, February 23, 2010

An Olympic Bum.

I am an Olympian.

I am watching the Olympics with the Hub. We are enjoying the broadcast. Very much. We provide interesting and clever commentary, we think. We discuss the "Gay" and "Not Gay" male figure skaters, not that there's anything wrong with that. I wish the Hub would try on Johnny Weir's black skating outfit with the pink lace-up corset. Hub wishes that I would try on Johnny Weir's black skating outfit with the pink lace-up corset.

Note: Gay

Now the ladies are skiing. Downhill.

Note: Can one actually ski uphill? Does such an event exist?

Oh! The ladies are falling. Crashing through gates. Skis are twisting and flying. Arms and legs are flailing. Oh, dear.

The crazy girls get up. And ski the next day. Even though they feel as if they have been hit by a freaking truck.

I am an Olympian.

It is Sunday morning. I awaken at 6:00 a.m. because I have an early-morning meeting. The house is dark. My head hurts. I grab Hub's big blue robe to go downstairs and get ibuprofen. I am not really awake. I place my foot on the steps but something is wrong. The step isn't there. I cry out for the Hub as my feet slip out from under me. Oh no! I am falling down the stairs. My back hits the steps. I can't stop falling. My arm is tangled in the rail. I'm still falling. I twist. I hit my ribs.

I can't get up. It hurts. Hub is scared. Rubi is scared. But they need not fear.

I am an Olympian.

I recover briefly on the couch. I feel throbbing in my back. My arm. My side. My finger is bleeding where my ring cut into the flesh.

I get dressed. I go to my early-morning meeting. I participate in the choir. I play my piano solo. I serve strawberries and bite-sized cakes following the event. I come home. I prepare a meal for 25 people. I serve it. I smile.

I am an Olympian.

With a very sore bum.


Lindsay said...

I shouldn't be laughing, but now that I know you are ok and semi functional, I feel its a little more acceptable. Also, my imagination has conjured up a cartoon version of MIL flailing down the stairs, which really makes it much more comical.

I think cartoon MIL might have pink hair.

Reisner said...

No, you are a stud! I am ever impressed and awed by your studness.