The Perfect Jeans Wipe Out

It's Tuesday night and I should be preparing for all of our Thanksgiving company who will begin arriving tomorrow. There are Usborne books everywhere, presents in various states of wrapping, mail, paper work, magazines, bushels of clean laundry, and who knows what else piled around the house. But no worries, I'll blog instead!

Let me take you back two posts ago, to the saga of my perfect jeans. There they hung in my closet with the receipt shouting out the amount paid, causing guilt every time I looked at them. By last week, the 30-day return time frame had long since expired so I had to accept the fact that the jeans were indeed mine.

Last Wednesday, I was feeling pretty good - physically and mentally, which is rare these days. I went to Curves for the first time in months and then actually washed my hair AND shaved my legs during my shower. (I know, crazy!_ I decided it was time. Time to wear the jeans. I have to admit, cutting off the tags did make me wince. No turning back! I put them on and ahh..... Yes, they were worth every cent. Throw on a cute top, blow out my hair, apply some make-up, and I was looking good! I took the kids to gymnastics class, feeling like one of the more put-together moms (and sold some Usborne books while I was there, too). As a bonus, I had a parents' association meeting that night, so there was another chance to show off my new duds.

I'm the VP for the parents' association at Francesca's school, and my neighbor Tony is the Secretary this year. He was picking me up at 7:15 to carpool to the meeting. At 7:10, all hell broke loose. Tony arrived early, the dog wanted in the house, I was scrambling to grab my insultated cup full of hot tea, and Francesca was screaming yet again about something mundane. In my rush to get out the door, I missed the doorknob and failed to pull the front door closed. I reached way in to grab it, pulled it shut as I turned to go down our front steps, caught my foot on the step, and fell.

For those of you who've been to our house, you know that we have four cement steps leading from our walkway to our front door. The walkway is made of pretty, yet very hard, paving stones. I fell from the 2nd step down to the walk, landing directly on both knees.

Think about that for a moment. A forward fall from two feet up with quite a bit of momentum where you land directly on your kneecaps on frozen pavers (it was 20 degrees) while holding a cup of hot tea - luckily with a lid. It's almost a week later and my knees still ache and have to be bandaged. Yet that night, as I knealt there in excrutiating pain, the only thought racing through my head was...

I ripped my jeans.