I took a tumble today. Nothing serious. But it did hurt. And it made me realise I’m not that steady on my feet after all!
Ralphie was sat on our bed watching Postman Pat. Don’t judge. He loves it (although is he the only one? I can’t find decent Pat toys anywhere!). And it means I can shower in peace. Anyway, watching in the mirror as I brushed my teeth, I saw him stand up, grin at me and proceed to walk backwards towards the edge of the bed. “STOP!” I shrieked. At the same time, arms outstretched, toothbrush still in hand, I launched myself out of the bathroom to grab him. Except I didn’t make it. I fell flat on my face.
Maybe it was because he saw me fall. Maybe it was because I shouted “Fuuuuuuuck!!!!!” Maybe it was the shock of seeing his half naked mother hurling through the air towards him. Or maybe it was because he was genuinely concerned. Whatever it was, he stopped suddenly in his tracks and sobbed.
I like to think I took one for the team. I whacked my knee and scraped my side. But he didn’t fall off the bed. I think we both ended up having a little cry at the shock of it all.
And you would think that would have been the end of it. It nearly was.
Ten minutes later, after emptying the contents of my bedside table onto the floor, into the bathroom he trotted. The floor was still wet and… you guessed it. Whooooooooooosh! Those little legs of his shot out from underneath him and before I could leap to his rescue he was lying flat on his back.
He took it well to be fair. Thankfully he doesn’t have far to fall. And his arms helped to break the worst of it. But you know that moment of dreaded silence before they unleash their cries…argh I hate it!
Daddy plays football on a Sunday morning. Usually it’s him fishing for sympathy as he recounts bad tackles and shows off his war wounds. Today, I think he was far safer running around outside in the aftermath of Storm Doris (what a pain she has been!). Us? We’re steering clear of the bathroom and that damn wet floor for a good while!