Pride goeth WITH the fall

Remember when you were young (maybe easier for some of you than others) and you fell? You'd immediately jump up and look around to see who might have seen. I mean really, no one wants to be seen when they're down, right? Charming and I were out walking the dogs the other morning, as we do every day - two miles or so each morning and evening. This would be a terrible chore if we didn't live on the beach, but since we do, it's really a lovely start to the day. It was breezy and chilly (you know, for the beach) so we altered our route to include turning around in a parking lot. As we start back toward home, Charming nearly tripped over a curb-stop. I laughed and advised him not to "hurt himself trying to walk". We continue through the lot and someone yells from a nearby bus stop, "Hey! I know you guys, I see you walking everywhere!" Since we live on a barrier island that is maybe five square miles, his definition of everywhere is somewhat limited. I turn around laughing and tell him that our dogs are spoiled - and he tells me, "good for you, you guys are my heroes!" Another sketchy definition if you ask me, but who am I to argue? So, still laughing, I turn back toward Charming, take a step forward and fall over a curb-stop. A bright blue, how-can-you-miss-this curb-stop. And I can tell you that any pride that I had, truly departed with the fall. I handed Charming the leash that I usually hold, gingerly turned to sit on my butt (I had fallen forward in the classic, skin-knee and palms pose,) and took a quiet assessment of my state of being (not worrying, or caring, who may see me when I'm down). Bus stop man yells to ask if I'm okay (I've now taken to ignoring him as though it's his fault that I'm clumsy.) I might have felt bad about not including him in my current mental dialogue, till he pointed to an ambulance at the end of the parking lot "in case I needed it". I can honestly tell you that this is one of the few times when everyone (mainly me) does not love a smart-ass. After I gave him my best glare (from my butt on the ground in a parking lot) I returned to my self-assessment - yeah, I have a knee skinned like I'm in grade school (and I have grandchildren older than that), and my hands are red and sore, but nothing seems to be broken and Charming is standing by waiting to help me up. The dog (the "aggressively friendly" one) is in my face trying to help, so I hold up a hand for the "heave ho". Not that I'm a ho who needed heaving, just a pride-less (or less prideful) late-middle-aged woman down on her luck(less) ass. Charming graciously waited till I was ready, heaved me to my feet, made sure that I wasn't truly hurt, and burst out laughing. Not a short chuckle kind of laugh either,. You know, the "I couldn't hold it a minute longer" belly laugh. He earned it I guess, and he did caution me to try to get home without "hurting myself trying to walk." And I guess I earned that, with what used to be my smart-ass pride.