When you see my biking in a football helmet, you'll know why...

I haven't biked in a few weeks (or really exercised at all come to think of it) and I really miss it. So yesterday when I had the opportunity to be at home with my kids on a beautiful afternoon, I suggested that we ride around the neighborhood.

Rainbow has a cool new purple bike that she just got for her birthday. It's big and we have the seat as low as it will go, but she's doing really well on it. Taz, not surprisingly, is a hot rod and loves to ride with no hands, pop wheelies, ride up the curb, and generally show boat. He gets it from his father.

We spun around the neighborhood, stopping in to visit friends along the way. We had to stop and run a quick errand in the car, and then the kids begged for another loop. The sun was shining, the day was stunning, we were having fun... I'm game!

Traffic was a little heavier the second time around. We took a different route and stopped to see a couple more friends. Rainbow and Taz were calling, "Car back!" "car front!" and "clear!" at regular and appropriate intervals.

As we were heading home, the road got a little busier. I was looking back at traffic, turned forward, and wham! My kids were stopped right in front of me. I slammed on the breaks, my bike stopped on a dime - but my body didn't. I felt myself sailing through the air. I saw the stunned expressions on my children's faces. Then time sped up and I felt the pavement, first with my hands and then with my chin as it bounced on the ground.

Some poor woman in a mini-van stopped and wanted to drive us home - which probably would have been smart. Instead, I asked her for a tissue to hold to my chin. I tried to ride my bike home and it took me about a block to realize that my chain had fallen off and start walking my bike instead. Taz said he was amazed that I wasn't crying and was surprised when I told him I was. Thank goodness for sunglasses. Sweet little Rainbow rode the last block home as fast as she could, then ran back to get my bike.

Damn if all the kids and most of the parents on my street weren't outside playing. Pretty soon, I had a crowd when all I wanted was to get away from them. Two of my neighbors are nurses and they insisted that I go to the doctor. One of them kept my kids and called my husband while I headed to patient first. In a short time span filled with dumb moves, another one was to drive myself. My hands were stinging so it hurt to grip the steering wheel, and I had to use one to hold ice and tissues on my chin. Driving got even more fun when Scouter called. I have to say, he was much more pissed that he had to leave work than at all sympathetic. Bastard.

Anyway, I finally made it to patient first without further incident and some weird little medical assistant took my height and weight (far more frightening than the injury). I was totally freaked out by the thought of stitches. The nurse tried to reassure me by saying they were no worse than child birth - ha ha ha. NOT at all what I wanted to hear. Then she made me suffer further by dumping antiseptic over all my other lacerations. (See, I learned new terminology while I was there.)

I spent some time checking out the place while I was waiting, and Margo, you'll be happy to know they use predominantly McKesson gear. I thought about Annnn and her brave self who shed not one tear as she finished her run with a sprained ankle and a huge gash in her knee before going to get stitches.

It didn't really help.

Finally the doctor came in to stitch me up. She said the numbing part would be the worst and then proceeded to jab me repeatedly with a dagger. Yep, I'll agree with that worst part. Although watching the stitching action was a close second. Here's a picture, just for Annnn. (I'd advise everyone else to SKIP IT!)

When I got home, the children were highly sympathetic (even though Scouter still wasn't). I was very tired and in pain. That's when Rainbow suggested that I start wearing a football helmet with a chin strap and the mouth guard.

A damn good idea.

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