Dinnertime is usually hectic in our house – dash in from the job, throw something on the stove and toss together a quick salad.

In between, my husband and I are catching up on what’s happened that day while my brain’s multi-tasking with how I’m going to get my paperwork finished before the dryer buzzes.

Throw in four rambunctious grandchildren, and dinner prep time becomes a three-ring circus and I’m not the ringleader.

Yesterday, I was bustling around the kitchen, and the 4-year-old was pretending to be a superhero. This particular superhero had the powers of quietly crawling along the kitchen floor and, oh yeah, he was also invisible.

So invisible, in fact, that I tripped over him and did a fabulous flip right over that little superhero onto the kitchen floor. On the way down, I smashed my elbow, hip and shoulder. However, I managed to safely slide all the plates onto the counter before I face planted.

Score one for the klutz and two for the superhero that helped me get back up on my feet.

Some people have natural grace. They glide through life, effortlessly going around every obstacle.

Then there’s me.

Tripping hazard? I’ll stumble over it. Spilled water? I’ll be the one to accidentally slip and slide through the mess. And it’s pretty likely I’m the one who left the tripping hazard in the middle of the walkway and spilled the milk.

I don’t limit my destructiveness to myself.

There’s quite a few dents on the passenger door of my car. For a long time, I thought I was parking next to inconsiderate people in the store parking lot.

One day, I realized I was hitting the car door against the wheelbarrow in our garage every time I opened it to get out the groceries. I looked a little closer, and the dents in the door were exactly at the point where the wheelbarrow handle was poking out.

So much for blaming somebody else for those dings.

There’s a huge scar on my leg from the time I had to pull my grandson out of the pool a few summers ago. He accidentally fell into the pool and, without thinking, I immediately jumped into the water and yanked him up.

Didn’t think about the two cell phones in my pocket.

Didn’t think twice about my electronic car keys in my pocket. My only thought was to get him out of the water.

In seconds, he was back on the side of the pool, both of us gasping and crying happy tears.

A few hours later, as I glumly accepted the fact I’d fried both the phones and my keys, I noticed a huge bruise and growing lump on my leg. Seems I’d hit my shin when I jumped into the water. Because I have all the grace of an elephant, I wasn’t surprised I banged myself up.

A few days later, I was at the doctor’s office with a major wound that involved a weeks’ worth of scalpel scraping to stop the infection. The huge scar reminds me I did save my grandson but also of just how big a klutz I was in the process.

I should probably congratulate myself on the fact that I did save four plates on the way down last night. My sore rear end, elbow and shoulder could be a reminder that I didn’t end up with a broken hip or arm.

I could brag and say only my nimbleness and grace allowed me to come through the event relatively unscathed.

But you and I both know that’s a lie. I wasn’t watching where I was going, tripped and ended up on my rear end on the kitchen floor.

At least there was a superhero there to save me.

 

This article was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.