When I was a little girl, my nickname was "Grace."
I thought it was a beautiful name, and I was pretty sure I was nicknamed this because of how fluidly I moved and walked, and how elegant I surely was.
To confirm this, as well as fishing for a compliment, I finally asked my parents, "Why do you call me 'Grace'?"
My parents quickly answered, "Irony."
Once I finally figured out what "irony" meant - I was pretty disheartened.
However, I must confess...grace is something I really do lack; always have, and always probably will.
Tripping...falling...stumbling...are pretty much my norm.
Take today, for instance....
I suffered a very traumatic and painful injury this afternoon...leaving me hobbling and limping along with a grimace and a cuss word with every step...
...I broke my big toe.
Yup. Broke it pretty good, if bruising and swelling are any indicators. As well as pain.
And how did I do this?
Wait for it.
Yes. I was doing laps in the pool, and I had turned at the wall and was doing a kick-out...when I kicked the wall. Concrete does not give very much when kicked by a toe.
Owie. (Only I said a few words much worse than "owie." Go figure.)
Daughter and I are heading to Disney World on Tuesday, and I now get to hobble around with a broken toe. Brought on by swimming.
Please tell me I'm not the only person ever - in the history of man - that has broken a toe by swimming??