I am a Klutz

Walking is a real challenge for me. Not because of any handicap, I just don’t have the talent for it. I am a klutz. I have broken so many bones, my orthopedist sends me Christmas cards.

I started my career early. I went straight from crawling to falling. It was a waste of time to childproof the house. I was too busy picking myself up off the floor to get into anything.

Over the years, my mother tried everything to help me become more graceful. First, there was ballet. Did you know that when one dancer falls at the barre it has a domino effect? The teacher didn’t find that amusing. Then we tried sports. Well, one sport. After I tripped over my tennis racket and broke my arm, my mother decided sports weren’t for me. Undaunted, we moved on to baton twirling. I really enjoyed it until the fire baton incident. Who knew sequins were so flammable?

During this period, we developed a great relationship with the ER staff. When we went in, we didn’t even have to wait. They’d just tell my mother to take me back to “my” room. For a long time, I thought my mother worked in the hospital because she knew everyone so well.

My mother was thrilled that I graduated from high school in one piece. She was so proud when I walked up on stage to get my diploma and didn’t trip once! I think she was secretly glad that from now on she didn’t have to pay my health insurance.

Mom also felt that now that I was an adult, I might finally develop that grace that had eluded me for so many years. No such luck. I developed some interesting skills, though, such as carrying groceries on crutches and putting on pantyhose one-handed. I never quite figured out how to translate those skills into the job market.

As a result of my lack of grace, I tried to be very careful in my job selection. As much as I secretly dreamt of being a roller skating waitress or a ski instructor, I knew I had to stick to something safe. I tried working at a bank. Except for the occasional robbery, it seemed like a safe bet. Nothing to trip over there, right? I tripped over the doorjamb on my way into the vault and almost locked myself in. Then I tried the library. Who could possibly get hurt in the library? I tripped and broke my wrist on my way in to the interview. I swear that bookshelf jumped right in front of me.

I even managed to reach one of my professional goals: I was invited to join a professional businesswoman’s organization The first meeting I was to attend was in an historic section of town with beautiful cobblestone streets and brick sidewalks. It was close to work, so I decided to walk over. All my thoughts centered around making a good first impression. I was so preoccupied I completely missed that ant. Later, several women told me that was one of their most exciting meetings, what with the ambulance and everything.

My mother despaired of my ever finding a husband. For a while she had hopes for the guy in the plaster room at the hospital. She swore he was flirting with me every time he set my casts. And she figured I could use the discount. He married a stuntwoman, though. She came in with both legs and one arm broken from a fall on a movie set. I couldn’t compete with that, even on one of my best days.

I knew my husband was the man for me when we went dancing. I tripped and accidentally hit him with my elbow. He didn’t blink an eye. Well, he really couldn’t because it was swollen shut, but he took it like a trooper. Mom was ecstatic, although I thought she was going to miss her friends at the hospital.

The big day came. During the wedding, I fell into my new husband’s arms. Tripped over that darn train! He was wonderful, carrying me down the aisle. Truthfully, he just didn’t want me to fall again, but it looked SO romantic. We had a wonderful honeymoon, too. You know, they have the nicest ER doctors in Hawaii. And they decorated my cast to match my husband’s shirt. I thought that was really a nice touch.

We debated about having children and finally decided we’d take a chance. After all, with all the padding we’d installed, the house was already childproof.

My husband was very protective of me during my pregnancy, but he couldn’t be with me all the time. Fortunately, my orthopedist was right next door to my OB-GYN. And my husband reassured me that no, I wasn’t getting fat, it was all that plaster.

As the big day approached. I was nervous. Would it be a boy or a girl? Who would he/she look like? Would the baby be more like my husband or me? Everything went as expected. It was really much easier than I thought.

And did you know that they make the cutest little pink casts for baby girls?