The rule of thumb for changing the clocks for Daylight Saving Time is "Spring forward, Fall back."  Well, I'm a rebel.  I decided to fall forward.

Yesterday, I was walking to Meecie's car,  I was by the front bumper and suddenly I was flying off the curb.  When I landed, I was on laying on the ground, in a prone position, by the rear tire.  I lay there for a few seconds trying to gather my wits.  I heard some people across the driveway.  I thought, "When an old lady falls, aren't people supposed to rush to her aid?"  What I heard next was a gasp.  When I looked up, there stood Meecie.  I asked her to fetch Mr. Man.  She asked me if I could get up.  I asked her again to fetch Mr. Man. 

Mr. Man comes out and asked me if I can get up.  I shot daggers at him.  Why was everyone asking me that?  If I could have gotten to my feet on my own power, wouldn't I have done so already?  Then he tells me I should put my flip-flops on which is when I noticed I wasn't wearing them.  One was by my foot but the other was by the front tire.  I wondered, "What the hell happened?"  That's when I began to survey the damage.

First, my favorite jeans were ripped.  OK, not such a big deal considering my favorite jeans are "distressed".  Through the new rip I saw blood.  Not good.  I looked at my foot which was beginning to throb and saw my big toe was cut and beginning to swell.  (I suspect it may be broken)  The other knee, my left knee, was bruised and swelling.  My hands were cut up and had bits of debris in them. OW!  Mr. Man helped me up and helped me limp home.

OK, honestly?  Honestly, I wanted him to pick my skinny ass up and carry me home.  He's always complaining about how thin I am.  Couldn't the big, bad, trash talking brute carry me home?  And here's the kicker.  I brought pizza home.  When I was on the sofa, my cuts cleaned and / or bandaged with ice packs on my knees, Mr. Man goes into the kitchen, puts three pieces of pizza on a plate and sits down to eat.  Excuse me?  I don't get any comfort?  Not even a little comfort food!  Oh c'mon!!!

For the rest of the day whenever I asked, "Could you bring me this or that?", I got the eye roll accompanied by a deep sigh.  Excuse the hell out of me!  Pain be damned, by nightfall I was hobbling by myself for myself!

What I wanted is something he can't give me ... my mother's sanas, her arms around me, rocking me and cooing to me.  In the absence of that, just a little sympathy would have been nice.

** my mother's sanas

Sana sana,
colita de rana,
si no sana ahora,
sana mañana.

It's something my Mama used to say when I was hurt.  It's a magic saying that makes things heal quickly ... at least when I was a child that's what we were told and honestly it always seemed to work.  Later I learned the translation:

Heal, Heal, little frog's butt
If you don't heal today
You'll heal tomorrow

Amazing what a little loving tenderness can do ... even for a little frog's butt.