jwaneeta

Last night Omaha threw another bash down by the river. With fireworks, naturally, the biggest display in the history of this town's hilariously excessive displays.

We sat at the water's edge, next to a flat-bottomed boat. Early on I hopped up to retrieve something and nearly fell into the gap between the dock and the boat. Wow, was I glad I saw the danger in time and scrambled away!

Except I did the same thing when we were packing to leave. And fell into the crack. Oh, how merrily people laugh when you fall into a crack! Ha! Ha! Especially if the whole thing seems inevitable, like that guy who met Death on the road to Aleppo.

We've got to get out of here before Cyn falls into a crack! chortled my friends, channeling Galaxy Quest.

I have no idea what makes me so accident prone. Somebody has to do it, I guess. And it apparently never stops being funny, even if your friends have seen your pathetic pratfalls a hundred times.

One does what one can. I took ballet for years to combat my native clumsiness. I never have more than a glass of champagne at these things, just to weight the odds a little better in my favor. It doesn't matter -- last night I didn't have a drop, and I was being careful where I trod, really, because of the looming presense of the crack.

Thunk! Plop! Hahaha! Oh, And today I have a picturesque hobble. I'm all bendy.