Ouch

This morning the weather was awful. Raining and really strong winds (it is now 2:30 and beautiful). Anyway....while walking Zoe to her van I somehow tripped over Zoe's feet or the umbrella she was dragging on the ground. I was holding Ben, so naturally the motherly instinct was to protect my child and not worry about me. I fell forward hard...on my knees. Ben ended up on the ground too, but I was holding the back of his head in my hand and he didn't get hurt, only wet. I on the other hand....ended up with two bloody knees and a hole in the knee of my pants. Naturally they were one of my favorite pairs of pants. Zoe's instinct was to deny that she had any part in my fall. This all happened in front of the van driver and Lara's dad. Although oddly enough I don't think either one of them actually saw me fall.

Later that morning I was reminded of a similar fall I took in the 5th grade on the playground. It's a story my oldest and dearest friend Laura remembers and laughs about. Laura always found it hilarious that I didn't start crying until I saw the hole in my pants. I didn't cry today. I'm just trying to figure out how I can save the pants. If I was in the U.S. I'd wear the pants with the hole in the knee, no problem. I don't think I can pull that off here. I already feel like a slob compared to the high fashion Euro-women. Definitely can't turn them into Dirty Dancing shorts. I'll just wash them and put them away and look at them every now and then. sigh