When you’re sliding into third…

Let me set the scene for you. We’ve had gorgeous weather all week down here in southwestern Florida. I mean absolutely gorgeous. Even at this minute, as I write, I’m sitting out the lanai, the thermometer reads 79 degrees, there is a pleasant breeze, ahhh.

Yesterday, however, there was a brief break in the sunshine. The wind picked up and before we knew it, the rain was pouring. Very Hawaii-like. We were sitting in the house and when I saw how hard the rain was coming down, I said to the Little Man, “Hey buddy, go out onto the lanai and look at the rain.”

Trusting that his old man wouldn’t disturb his playing for no good reason, the Little Man diligently took off running out onto the lanai. That was when I noticed that the tiled floor of the lanai was slick with water.

The moment I noticed it I knew what was going to happen, but I was frozen while time slowed down. I watched the Little Man take about two barefoot steps on the tile before his legs went out from under him. We went down on his butt and elbows, which foratunely broke most of the fall because he smacked the back of his head on the tile, too.

As soon as he was down I sprang into action. I knew he’d be crying and wanted to calm him down and make sure he was okay. I dashed out to get him and–you’re ahead of me–I got two steps out onto the tile before I felt my bare feet go out from under me. Not only did I land on my butt and elbows but I slid into the Little Man, smashing his already crying person into the railing.

A few minutes later, he was fine. A small bump, probably a headache but no other injuries. Indeed, when he woke up this morning, it was as if the whole event never happened. Not so me. I woke up this morning and my left arm is stiff and sore–exactly the same kind of stiffness and soreness one expects after spending an afternoon chopping wood. Ah, too be young again.