Monday, December 3, 2012

I Almost Fell. Some Sheep Laughed. Or, in Other Words, it's the Holiday Effin' Season

Saturday night was the annual Christmas parade in our town. This is the one holiday festivity I actually look forward to each yeah because a) my kids are always in the parade and b) I love to see how excited everyone in town gets and how they support all our little clubs and businesses. 

Now that we are in the new house, it's much easier for me to just walk to the parade than drive because, although my town is small, when the main road through town is two lanes and they close those lanes off so people won't be driving up in the parade, traffic from hell does ensue. So, I put on my walking shoes, grabbed my phone and headed out. 

The phone on which my mother called me right as I was ending the near of my street.

The phone I should've never answered. 

I don't walk good in the daylight with nothing distracting me. In the dark, while talking on the phone is the same as playing Russian Roulette with my body. If I'm on the phone with my mother while walking in the dark, I may as well go ahead and throw myself in front of a train because the words "good" and "bye" have no meaning to her. 

But, I was trying to be a good daughter and I had a little time before the parade started, so I talked for a minute and walked at a slower pace. As I entered the main road in my hood, I began trying to get off the phone. She began telling me how much her family loved having us at Thanksgiving and asking if I was wearing clothing that would prevent a car from hitting me.

"I'd probably be okay if I could pay attention to the oncoming traffic. Oh crap, they are diverting traffic down our street. It's really busy. I need to go to avoid death."

"They thought it was so sweet you left that entire dessert there for them. They just couldn't say enough stuff about you. You aren't wearing black are you?"

"I already said I was but that my shoes have relfecty things on them." 

"Oh. Well, they can't get over how pretty and well-mannered your kids are."

"Mom, seriously about to die. Gotta go."

I think she was still talking when I hung up on her. 

Due to slowing my pace, my cushion of time had disappeared, so I was forced to do a slow jog so I wouldn't miss my kid in the parade. 

My town seriously needs to invest in more street lights because, right outside the neighbor's sheep farm (why yes, I do live in town), I hit some cracked black top and totally twisted my ankle. It made an angry sound and immediately started to swell in my reflecty shoe. It's currently the size of a small orange, which is a step up from it's prior grapefruit sized status.

As my ankle twisted and I dropped a very unladylike word, a sheep went, "Baaaa" but it really sounded more like, "Bwahaaaaa". I shit you not. 

"Are the effing sheep laughing at me?" I realized I said out loud.

Although not commonly known among those not in the
farming industry, sheep have a wicked sense of humor.
Bastards. Pic attribution.

When I heard the laughter of the human kind behind me, I realized not only were there witnesses to my clumsiness, but also to my small psychotic breakdown. 

Which made me kind of wish I'd just rolled all the way down the hill into the sheep pen.

My mother has called me four times since then and I refuse to answer the phone.

Because, this year, just like all the others, Christmas is being an asshole.


Michelle Hoad said...

I bet you looked good doing it, though. that's what's important.

Loco YaYa said...

sometimes i forget why i adore you so...and then you put a gem like this out. and BOOM. it all comes flooding back.

p.s. when the sheep's bad.

Amy Garnett said...

I've decided to only read blogs that make me laugh out loud on a regular basis. Not just smile. LAUGH! Congratulations, you made the cut. :)

Rachel said...


How I've missed keeping up on your blog. Especially with laughing sheep.

Holy heck... I grew up on a farm and never knew they could have been laughing at me for years.

Crap. Denial was nice.