My Finest Moment.

Dear Diary, 

     Saturday, I took my kids for a walk in the wagon. But not just any old wagon. It was a rickety old John Deere wagon like the one below (only less ghetto) that my neighbors gave us for free when they were moving. 

As I rounded the corner of my neighborhood with the kids in tow, a succession of cars paraded past us on a busy street. One car in particular had a couple in their 50's or so, driving slowly past us and beaming at the sight of two precious children in an antique-like wagon, taking an afternoon stroll with their mother. I smiled politely, knowing dang well that my kids are quite the attention grabbers (as all children are) and looked behind me to take a gander at those beauties. Just as I turned my head forward, my slow-motion smile and "life is just marvelous" movie moment turned into a big fat, 

"OH, SHIIIIIIIIIII-OOOOOOT!" as I tripped over an uneven piece of concrete in my ever so fashionable crocs I spoke of in a previous post. The only thought going through my perspiring mind (yes, it's already hot here in Arizona, if you can imagine it while there is 2 feet of snow at your house) at this point is how their "awwww-ing and oooo-ing" turned into belly laughs and, consequently, accidental farts from laughing so hard after seeing this All-American family eat pavement. It wasn't my finest moment. But it's me we're talking about. It'll happen again tomorrow, someway somehow. 

Sincerely, 

Me. The Pavement Eater.