I have a curious habit of being clumsy, and no one being surprised that something happened in a situation where I was being clumsy.
My dear sweet better half has got the reflexes of a cat and therefore saves me from stairs, cracks in the sidewalk, glass doors that I don’t see because I’m talking with my hands, and etc. However I think I cause him the most stress when I’m not actually with him.
Therefore whenever I’m not actually with him and I need him to come rescue me from some situation or such, I try to start the call or text with, “funny story…”
I’m pretty sure he doesn’t find it funny. I had to start doing this because this one time, well I’ll just tell you the whole story.
So a friend and I have girls similar ages and a couple years ago, we all decided it would be super fun to go hiking, in a National Park near where we lived. On the fly cause that is how we roll - no water, no snacks, but hey we had our phones - hello selfies!
It had just started the thaw where we lived up here in the wild north and neither one of us adults really thought that through. It was still chilly but the snow was gone and the sun was out. We got about a good mile in when we began to discuss the mud. There was mud everywhere, except the trail where we were hiking along.
That said trail led us straight up to a climb which would begin our elevation. The littles went first because they are like goats in Converses with cute ponytails.
I started up next and about half way up, the plant I was holding in my right hand gave way because - you guessed it - mud.
My fall backwards must have been spectacular. Eagle spread, screaming obscenities I went down hard on my tushy (can I say tushy in a newspaper? Well there it is, my tushy). I lay there for a minute catching my breath and mentally checking all my important body parts.
My hiking partner was gasping for air as she was doubled over in laughter and three cute little heads were peering down over the ledge as the kids made a safety check, in an attempt to lively up my situation, I started making a mud angel throwing mud everywhere in the process.
It was when I sat up that I realized the stinging wasn’t just from little fall but I had fallen in the exact middle of a spiky bush. I needed a shower and somebody with tweezers to help me extract all the prickles from my rear end and mercy there was a lot of them. What started out as an adventure was quickly going to become a hassle.
I managed to extract myself from the mud and we all gathered up on a large non-muddy rock to decide how we were going to get ourselves home. We drove up in my truck and it was new to me, a gift from my hubby, the hubby who can’t stand yucky vehicles.
So I realized that it was in my best interest to contact the husband. That poor man who is stuck with me, to come bail me out. Again.
Living in the northern wilds means that often times you will commute for work, and at that time, he was working an hour away and luckily for me still in the very slightest of cell phone coverage.
I said hello and then there was static and knowing that I was going to lose him, I just jumped in. “I fell at the Park and I need help” and then the call dropped.
I kept calling him back, hoping he would get a little signal but alas no. So there sat, when in the distance I see his truck come barreling through the National Park, speeding when it’s clearly a 15 mph zone.
It then occurred to me that perhaps he’d taken that wrong and was worried that something was seriously wrong - not just mud and prickles. He’s spoiled for a reason, poor guy.
Kalynn Brazeal is a conservative, Christian wife/mom/country girl carrying around an MBA, several decades of business experience and a strong opinion. Dividing her time between Grand Lake and North Dakota, she continues to share her column on life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness and cake. She can be reached by email at firstname.lastname@example.org.