When you hear the word “fall,” it may bring to mind many different images: cooler temperatures, leaves changing color, Thanksgiving coming soon, and family gatherings that will be taking place. I prefer the term autumn.
In my family, when the word “fall” is spoken, it is inevitably followed by laughter—usually at my expense.
You see, I have never been known as being particularly graceful. In fact, my nickname growing up was “Grace”…and it wasn’t because I was so light on my feet. In fact, it was usually the opposite! It’s truly amazing that I was a twirler and drum major throughout high school and managed to stay on my feet during performances.
A couple of weeks ago when my children were home from college, the dreaded FALL word reared its ugly head when Wes shared my latest calamity with the kids. I was in a rolling chair and leaned just a little too far—and then it began…the teasing…the laughter…listing all the places I have fallen, and naming their favorites:
The fairgrounds…the bathroom(s)…Seattle…restaurant parking lots…(my son’s favorite) the Empire State Building (That one worked out okay. They moved us to the front of a very long line!)…(my daughter’s favorite) my parents’ driveway (I was carrying a fast food sack and was trying to get the attention off my fall, so my first words were, “Where are my tacos?” I didn’t realize that sentence would make it SO stinking memorable!).
The laughter I’m talking about is the kind where you laugh until there are tears rolling down your face. Even if you are the brunt of the jokes, you have to laugh, too when you see the enjoyment being had at your expense! It’s contagious!
It’s gotten to be a joke that someday Wes is going to write a book titled Daddy Fell for Mama—Mama Just Fell! I remind them—it’s not how many times you fall, it’s how many you get up.
So, from our family to yours, have a happy fall, y’all!
Until next time ~ Karen
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