Falling Off Swings

Swinging on a swing seems so simple until you try teaching your firstborn child (Happy Birthday Ryan) the subtle moves of shifting weight to propel oneself without a push. Aging is alarming because some of those invisible movements can be unlearned. I jogged a shortcut path toward four lanes of traffic entering and exiting Bellevue College. Regular gaps in traffic would allow my unauthorized crossing. I waited for a city bus to go by but the driver inexplicably stopped for me. My head took immediate action, ordering a sprint across the road. The message to my legs was delayed just that fraction of a second that caused my body to bend at an angle that could not be sustained upright. My left knee was fastest to the ground (palms of my hands have won that race before). I felt incredibly vulnerable and humiliated sprawled in front of that bus. Dreading anyone rushing to my aid, I immediately jumped up and raced across all four lanes, making no eye contact with anyone. I went past the door to Five Stones Coffee Shop and tried unsuccessfully to open two different double windows. A young female customer came out and opened the door for me. After ordering from the wrong counter, another student asked if I needed help. I realized he was looking at my left knee which had a six inch stream of blood pooling from the scrape. I assured him I was fine as I dabbed napkins on my leg, trying to avoid the sight of blood. My biggest mistake was not changing into long pants before my wife got home and accused me of falling again.