So this week for Mama Kat’s Writers Workshop I decided to forget Thanksgiving, write about a time I fell down. Why? Well because everyone else is probably going to be writing about Thanksgiving in some form or another and eventually you’ll get tired of it. And well…. I want you to read mine.
Many years ago, like 15 or so my daughter was just a little baby. She was this cute, round, chubby thing with a head full of curls and she was absolutely adorable in her little dress and ruffle butt tights.
We were getting ready to get her 9 month pictures taken as well as a family picture that day. We were all set to go with the diaper bag and everything all packed and in the car all that was left was for me to grab my jacket and head out the door.
It was fall so it was cold, breezy, and wet as usual for Michigan weather. I started out the back door which had a set of wooden steps that led down to the ground and I didn’t realize that they were slippery even though I could see that they were damp. I miss stepped and slipped falling down 3 or 4 steps before landing on the bottom step that sits on the ground. Now you’re probably thinking oh, that’s not all that bad. But it was because I was holding the my baby girl.
I have never been so scared in my entire life. I held her tightly against me and just fell and it hurt like hell because I wasn’t letting go of her to catch myself. It was honestly the longest few seconds of my life.
After a few moments I realized that my daughter was fine. Not a bump, scratch, or anything. I on the other hand was wet, in some serious pain and could barely walk back up the steps to go inside the house to change.
All that mattered was that she was fine.