My kids and I were in a cabin in Big Bear. We were having a fun family vacation and I was proud that I was able to take them there by myself, find the cabin, take them snowboarding and enjoy their company by a cozy fireplace along with my home cooking every evening.
I liked to get up early so I could exercise, shower and get breakfast started before anyone awoke. Standing under the shower that morning, I leaned over for the wash rag. The tub was slippery and before I knew it, I was pitching forward, arms flailing for balance. I try to imagine what I must have looked like: naked, wet body, feet flying out from under me, arms waving spastically. Not pretty. I grabbed the shower curtain which crashed down with me as I fell face forward, smacking my forehead with a sickening thud against the closed toilet lid. Ouch. This seemed bad. Was I dead?
After writhing in pain for some time, I stumbled out of the tub and looked at my face in the mirror. You know those cartoons where someone gets hit on the head and a huge lump immediately appears? Well guess what? It really happens. A large, red lump was swelling before my eyes right in the middle of my forehead. Very attractive. Oh yeah, and it really, really hurt.
It seemed serious. Was I going to die? What if I blacked out? I was the only parent, the only one in charge. What would happen to my kids?
Over the next few hours, my face sprouted annoying patches of jaundice yellow and festive black and blue circles around my eyes. I looked like I’d been beaten.
Later, my sweet, sensitive son said, “Yeah I heard you fall.”
“Well why didn’t you come check on me?”
“I was tired.”
He was tired? And you were so worried about them.
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