It’s getting dangerous up in here.

For some reason, I am a walking disaster when it comes to vacations. (Also, walking down streets, staying at home, driving a car, and now: just sitting around.) Sunday afternoon, after a morning of running errands, the girls were excited to play at home. Bee’s fever had crept back up and she was decidedly whiny, so I thought maybe Gracie could play outside with Auntie Rhi while I convinced Bee to lie down for awhile. To my great surprise, everyone thought that was a lovely idea…even Bee. (Warning sign #1)

Auntie Rhi made some iced coffee and we hooked Gracie up with some water, with ICE! (That’s how she refers to it, every. time. And so I shall, too.) The two of them headed out to the driveway so Gracie could ride bikes. I told Rhi where the tri-fold lounge chairs were (what we called “teepee chairs” when we were younger – guess why) and otherwise left them alone.

Thirty minutes later – right after I finished cleaning the coffee pot, checking the weather, and putting away dishes, and just before I sat down to relax – Bee popped out of bed for the 32nd time and asked if she could go outside and play. I didn’t even argue because, really? Napping at 2:30 probably wasn’t a good idea anyway. So I grabbed some fresh coffee and made a water bottle for Bee and we headed out front, too.

Auntie Rhi and Gracie had a pretty sweet set-up: Rhi had the lounge chair arranged at the mouth of the garage, half in the shade, so that just her palepalepale legs were in the sun and she and Gracie had chalked out an entire village of houses, parking spots, and gas stations amongst the most intricate bike path ever. Rhi’s iced coffee and her book looked so inviting, lying there next to her lounge chair. Seriously – it was picturesque (Warning sign #2).

So I grabbed the other lounge chair and set it up carefully so that I wasn’t on top of the gas station or a parking spot. The girls were very (ahem) enthusiastic with helping me decide a location. (“NOT THERE, MOMMY! That’s my GAS STATION!” “Nooooo! I’m PARKED THERE!”) I sat down and enjoyed the breeze, my hot caffeine, the sunshine frying my skin, and the very loud music my neighbors were nice enough to supply. (Best neighbors ever.) The girls even accommodated me by not needing anything for at least 30 minutes straight (Warning sign #3).

Of course, all good things must end – and if you’re around me, you’ll notice it’s usually with a bang. The girls decided they needed root beer floats. So Bee came to “help” and ten minutes later (and two refills – don’t ask), we headed back outside. Down I sat. The girls drank and biked and got up and sat down and generally climbed all over me. And that is when it happened. “It” being the very painful, very dangerous, very typically ME thing: I maneuvered forward a smidge too far and the lawnchair collapsed forward. The back leg folded under me and my fantastically shaped, but now much bruised derriere came down on the concrete driveway. Even worse than that, if there can be such a thing, is that my tailbone came down on the metal bar that constitutes the back leg of the chair. I screamed when it happened, but that was more from shock than pain (although it smarted then, too.). Now? Now my tailbone is miserably painful and I can barely sit at my desk. I have a doctor’s appointment on Friday to get my I’m-too-much-of-a-wuss-to-fly pills, so if it’s still bothering me then, I’ll mention it to him. What an introduction to a new doctor, eh?

Oh, well. He might as well get used me and my very dangerous lifestyle.

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Tags: outdoors, vacation