As I drove slowly up the rutted alley beside the baseball field a couple days ago, I could see my daughter and her teammates gathering their softball gear near the fence. I reached the parking lot adjacent to the field and had to wait for a Suburban to back out of the tight space, then I parked and got out to get her.
I walked across the parking lot, loving the sound my heeled boots made as I walked. I like the way women walk when they wear heels, and when I do it I feel very sexy…
As I got closer to the field I was surprised to find only one coach remaining with his daughter ~ no other girls in sight. I asked where my daughter was, surprised because I had just seen her. He had no clue, but his daughter said she was with another girl, though she didn’t know where. I turned, and scanned the distant game being played two fields over for the familiar form of my daughter, and I started walking toward the game. All of a sudden my right foot hit a concrete parking barrier and I went down face-first so fast it dried my eyeballs. I rolled over into a sitting position and sat there, stunned.
The coach had been watching me and he called, “Are you okay? My God! Did you hurt yourself?” I turned and looked at him, grinning at him but laughing inside because I know damn well how ungraceful my fall was. It ain’t pretty when a tall girl falls.
“Does my pride count?”
It was almost as embarrassing as my most embarrassing moment, except that I only had a couple people watching this time instead of an entire gym full of spectators. The worst part of the experience? My favorite sexy boots are ruined from being gouged by the concrete barrier that so rudely took me out.