Those closest to me know that I could probably be the poster child for all “Type A” personalities. I am innately driven and responsible.  I also take myself a little too seriously at times. I occasionally try to be funny, with mixed results. You get the picture.

However, not everything that happens TO me is of a serious nature.  In fact, I’ve had numerous OMG! and giggle-worthy experiences in my lifetime which I think are worthy of sharing with loyal RDC readers.

Before I jump right in, let me just say that time and perspective are very powerful.  Not only were these experiences NOT funny at the time, at least one of them was downright scary.  But, today I grant permission to laugh at my misfortune!  Without further ado, here are a few of my favorite stories.

The Time I Fought a Homeless Guy

Many moons ago, I traveled with a co-worker to Minneapolis for a conference.   Unfamiliar with the area but with some free time on our hands, we asked our concierge about the best way to get to the Mall of America and were directed to use the bus system.  I had never been on a city bus nor had I witnessed what goes on in big-city downtown areas, so I was excited for some new experiences.  Boy was I in for a new experience!

As we waited in frigid temperature, I noticed a group of individuals clustered down the block.  One man, dressed in very old and dirty clothing, looked to be “preaching” to the others while the rest were waving their arms in the air.  I heard broken phrases but otherwise paid little attention to their behavior.  A moment later, as I was telling my friend that I could no longer feel my fingers, I heard heavy footsteps coming in my direction.  I quickly realized someone was addressing me.  I turned around to face the man, who asked me for a cigarette.  I responded casually that I did not smoke and he immediately retreated.  With my encounter over, I began to make a funny comment about the odds of ME being confronted by the Minneapolis homeless.  Pretty soon, however, I heard footsteps again only this time they were moving much more quickly. Prepared to reiterate the fact that I did not possess a cigarette, I turned to see him running at full speed with his eyes locked on me.  I can only describe the next few moments as the strangest of my life – and, yes, everything happened in slow motion. The guy ran right up to me and punched me in the shoulder!!  As I fell backward and everyone around started freaking out and crowding around me, my first thought was “I can’t believe my first fight was with a hobo!”  The moments following his left hook were a blur, but it wasn’t long before police apprehended him and removed several knives from his pockets.

The best part is that we didn’t really know what to do next.  It’s only logical that a near death experience should be followed by a merry trip to the Mall of America, so that’s what we did.  Maybe this explains why I have panic attacks every time I go shopping!

Moral of the story: The only time a cigarette can potentially SAVE your life is if you have one on hand to give to a homeless guy.

The Time My Kid Tried To Scalp Me

Bailey has always enjoyed taking a bath with me. Throughout her 6 years, we have had many bathtub conversations and played numerous games of “beauty shop.” When she was about 4 years old, we were engaged in our regular beauty shop routine with her washing my hair. That night, she used way too much shampoo and I had to close my eyes to avoid the soap running down my face. I kept telling her to hurry up, but she wanted to “scratch it in” with an old toothbrush that she had been using to stir her many bathtub concoctions. I briefly opened one eye to help her find the toothbrush. She started brushing my head and the relaxation I felt easily counteracted the burning in my eyes.

When I finally decided it was time to wrap up our session and get out of the tub, I felt around for a cup to pour water over my head. I reached up to squeeze the soap out of my hair and experienced the strange sensation of my hair actually coming away from my head.  Now, I tend to lose hair pretty easily but, as I looked at the clump in my hand, I quickly realized this wasn’t simply a few hairs.  My internal question of “I wonder why my hair is falling out so much?” was soon answered by a glimpse of Bailey with more of my hair all over her, a razor in her hand, and a terrified look on her face.  Yep, she had traded the toothbrush for the razor at some point in her “scratching it in” process.

I spent the next 30 minutes alternating between crying and screaming, while pulling chunk after chunk of hair from my head.  Fortunately for me, I have a thick head of hair and I really couldn’t detect any major damage once my hair was dry.

Moral of the story: Be careful when you mention to your kid that you’re thinking about getting a funky razor cut.

The Time My Treadmill Became My Nemesis

Pregnancy does not do much for your balance.  However, I’d always stayed in decent shape and had no problems exercising up to the last moments of both of my pregnancies.  One night when I was about 8 months pregnant with Nolan, I was on the treadmill while Bailey played with toys in the same room.  Jason was on the other side of a set of French doors watching t.v. in the living room.  My walking drowned out the sound of whatever was on the television, as well as most of what Bailey was periodically chattering on about.  I was in a zone and feeling pretty good about my pace given the awkwardness of my pregnant belly.  Soon, though, everything changed.  In a split second, I had accidentally stepped on the side of the treadmill instead of the belt. In any non-pregnant moment, I’m sure I would have easily recovered. In fact, I know I’ve done this a million times before. On this particular occasion, however, the misstep caused me to lose my balance and fall. My knees and shins hit the treadmill and I started sliding backward.

Google “people falling on treadmills” and you’ll find some funny videos.  My fall would rate even higher on the hilarity metere, however, because I did something very smart (STUPID) to save space by wedging the treadmill into the corner of the room and placed the couch to its immediate right.  Instead of pushing me backward and off the back of the treadmill (which would have been bad enough), I became trapped against the wall with every move pushing me back onto the moving belt.

Bailey looked at me, horrified, and then ran for the door.  Thank goodness she was going to get Jason, I thought!  In the meantime, I knew my only hope was to crawl over the belt and deposit myself onto the (non-moving) floor, which I tried to do desperately.  After burning the skin off both my knees and shins in the process, I finally made it and collapsed for a good 2 minutes.

I spent the whole rest of the night airing out my oozing wounds and, of course, crying.  And you remember that part about Bailey going for help?  After I recovered, I walked into the living room to find her snuggled up with Jason, just watching t.v. without a care in the world.  When I asked her what happened, she said she needed to go somewhere quieter because I was being “crazy loud.”  Then, my husband had the audacity to ask me if I was going to finish my workout.  Good times.

Moral of the story: Use the safety key people!

So, there you have it.  Two “fights” and an unfortunate bathtub incident to make you feel a little better about yourself today!

[kendy]

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