So like I said, I got Cortisone shots in both of my knees and was reborn. A new woman. I felt like I could dance a jig. (Note: When a 230 pound woman says she feels like she could dance a jig, back away slowly.)
The doc told me the shots could work a long time, or a short time…only time would tell. Well, hell, I thought, with answers like that, he could be a meteorologist.
But I was feeling frisky tonight during Varmint’s softball practice. So much so, in fact, that when the team needed runners while they practiced their fielding, I got in line. (Usually it’s the younger siblings that get that honor, but there were other parents getting in on it tonight, and I was not about to be left out.)
Know this: I wear crocs all the time. And tonight was no exception.
So there I am, on Home Plate, waiting for my chance. Crack goes the ball, off I go lumbering down the line in my super spiffy crocs and my re-born cortisone osteo-arthritic knees. And baby, I made it! SAFE!
I would like to be able to say that I was graceful in my 1st base success. I would like to say that I was the perfect role model for good sportsmanship. I would like to say I’m a size 6, but none of these things would be remotely true.
I hooted and hollered and taunted: “I’m crippled AND wearing crocs and my old butt is SAFE on 1st! What do you think of THEM apples, Ladies?!” And I danced that dangerous 230 pound jig.
They nailed me on 2nd.
But I didn’t care. I had made it to 1st, dagnabbit!
I’m limping again. My knees are burning again. My daughter is probably wishing she had just about anyone else for a mother, again.
But man! It was worth it!
I know, I know, I’m a BONEHEAD. It’s Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Clearly I have issues.