QT means Quit Tripping

Here are the facts;

I am the most coordinated clumsy person I know.

I took ballet, tap and jazz lessons from the time I was three years old until I was a sophomore in college. Incorporate cheerleading, drill team, swimming and a lot of years of gymnastics and I’d say that I can point my toes with grace. I just can’t walk through life very gracefully.

I fall down stairs and even more often fall up the stairs. There is never a day that my legs are not sporting a bruise. I catch my hips on corners, I stub my toes on a flat surface and I trip over anything and everything. Those yellow triangular signs that people put down after they have mopped that show CAUTION WET FLOOR with the person hanging in mid air before landing smack on their backside…..that’s me. I can’t walk down a hill without doing some arm flailing and yelling Whoa! Whoaaaa! You get the picture? Graceful, yet not so much.

So, here’s the face plant story. Let me preface this with when people ask me what’s my most embarrassing moment that this probably won’t be it, because I have dozens of these stories. I have so many of these incidents that they have faded in my memory and just become everyday common occurrences.

I was in a hurry to get out the door to take the kids to the pool. I decided to just wear my swimming suit and not bother with a cover up. I felt that the van gave me enough coverage and my swimsuit is a halter top and skirt, basically just shorter than what I would wear as clothes. Yes, I swim in clothes. If someone would make a t-shirt and capris in swimable fabrics I would wear them.

In my rush I realized I would have to stop at Quick Trip and get gas. Have I ever told you we have the nations busiest QT? I’m pretty sure this is a true statement. So, I pull up during the lawn boy break. Every pump was full with a truck load of men waiting for Joe to get their drinks and go on to the next field to mow. I made a circle looking for the most discreet pump. I settled with one next to an older woman, surely she wouldn’t mind viewing me in all my swim bodaciousness.

I’m feeling okay, I can do this. I got out of the van and quickly got the gas going. I stepped over the hose and was ready to hide in the van until the pump was finished. This is when I realized my foot was caught on the hose. I hopped forward still stuck, hopped again still stuck, hopped again and this time the hose brought my leg back and my body went up in the air and I landed flat on my belly. I had the driver’s door open and my daughter saw me yelling Oh! Oh! NO! then she saw my head swish by the door. I got up as fast as I could, did the look around to see if anyone saw me and then lowered my head in shame. Why me? I get enough attention being six feet tall with freaky blond hair, I don’t need to draw anymore attention and yet I manage to. There is just never a place to hide when I need one. I’m sure QT has the whole thing on tape if you all would like to see proof that I am indeed a certified klutz.

Is this where the story ends? No, of course not. I sent Ellen in to get two small fountain drinks. I gave her three bucks and some change. She came back with two .59 cent drinks and no money. Where’s the change? I dunno. How much did it cost? I dunno, I just gave him the money and the change. Did you pay attention to what you were giving him? No. Two small drinks do not cost that much. Oh. Now we have to go in and get my money back. Why? Because that’s all the money I have! Oh. Would you want to get it back if it was your money? Yes. Let’s go. Sorry Mom. I know, let’s go. (I’m not even going to go into the whole homeschooled kid thing and how I must not be teaching them very well and are they going to turn out to be complete idiots and be living with me forever thing…no, I’ll leave that to my own silent torment.)

So, into QT I go in all my swimsuit-bodacious-face-plant-beauty to ask for my two dollars back. God help me. “Hello I’m the huge lady that just did a belly flop on the pavement out there….”

Humiliation. Humbleness. Lesson for the day learned.