Okay, so I tend to fall over randomly- on nothing. Walking along one minute, tripping over the next. Monday was a little bit different. I fell over for a reason. There was a sandwich involved. I didn't see the sandwich, but the sandwich definitely saw me. I fought the sandwich and the sandwich won.
Normally (as normal as falling over can be), it seems to happen in slow motion. I usually (as usual as injuring one's self can be) roll my ankle for no evident reason at all: "Where did that join in the footpath come from? Oh, the one like all those other joins that most people negotiate effectively on a regular basis?" Anyway, this time there was a culprit, and I didn't just roll my ankle it was a full-body fall. One second I was walking along with great purpose, the next I was on the footpath with my skirt around my head. Please don't think too hard about that. Okay, yep- go on, laugh. That's right- just let it all out. A few people very graciously helped me- a few people just stared. Some people just continued eating their icecreams. But nobody laughed. That's nice, I guess.
When I told my mum she questioned me extensively about the sandwich. "How big was the sandwich?" "Where was the sandwich?" "Why hadn't anyone cleaned up the sandwich?" I answered to the best of my recollection and even volunteered some information regarding the contents of the sandwich. There was definitely carrot and beetroot involved. I had visions of Senior D.I. Mum collecting forensic and circumstancial evidence, then arresting the sandwich on suspicion of loitering with intent to harm. Oh Mum- it wasn't the sandwich's fault, it was just one of those things, exacerbated by the clumsiness of your daughter!
