The weather in New York state is all but predictable. A few days ago I woke to find the thermometer reading -5 degrees. Holy shit, that’s cold even for a born and bred Northerner. Then, a few days later it’s a whopping 50 degrees. Yep, that’s right. And people wonder why I’m so cranky.
Since it had warmed up so much I figured it was about time that I took the rotting pumpkin off my front porch and threw it in the compost pile. I was finally able to make my way out the back door, across the deck (which now only has about one foot of compacted snow/ice on it as opposed to the 3 feet of snow it had on it a week ago) and out to the compost pile behind the garage. But…not without incident. You see, as I approached the steps leading down to the backyard my heel hit a piece of ice and WHHHHOOOOOSH! There I went. Sliding at full speed down the steps (which were actually more like an ice slide since I hadn’t shoveled them in months) and landing with a hard cruuunch on my ass. Ouch. Surprisingly enough, I didn’t drop the pumpkin. It was still planted firmly in my hands which meant that my ass took a terrible beating since I didn’t use my hands to break the fall. I started laughing, as I often do when I do something foolish and get hurt. Both of the dogs were outside and Gus came rushing to my side, licking my face as I laughed hysterically. I was still lying on the ground when I looked up to see this coming at me:
Yeah. Crazy. Ferocious. Dog.
Ridley gets spastic in the snow and it didn’t help that his mom was lying there laughing, holding a pumpkin. He came bounding toward me and pounced right on top of me. Barking and nipping like his Borderline Collie self. He then decided this was going to be a get-the-pumpkin game and started coming at me from all sides trying to pry the rotting pumpkin from my hands. This made me laugh even harder. And then it happened. I peed my pants. Oh, come on! Don’t tell me that if you fell on your ass into the cold, melting snow you, TOO, wouldn’t wet yourself!
By the time I got myself up and walked into the house, tears were streaming down my cheeks from laughing so hard. My child just looked at me, shook her head in disgust and in her motherly tone said, “What is wrong with you?” I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth so I crept upstairs and hit the shower. Damn weather. Damn dogs. Damn bladder.