Today is my man's first day at his new job, which means working from home, which means control over his own schedule and no commute, which means an extra hour of freedom in the morning, which means I get to run! By myself! Outside! At a reasonable hour! When I was feeding the basher in bed (best!) I heard the punk proclaiming his joy at seeing his dad in the morning with song:
"I'm so glad when Daddy comes home, glad as I can be!
I clap my hands and shout for joy and climb upon his knee.
Put my arms around his neck. Hug him tight like this.
Pat his cheeks and give him what? A great big kiss! Mmmwah!"
I knew it was going to be a good day.
As I ran north on Wasatch Blvd., I was reminded of the existence of rush hour. See, as a stay at home mom, I forget about these things sometimes. I ran on the side of the newly paved (read: bumpy and rough) asphalt road and hoped the drivers could follow the small reflectors that currently act as lane dividers. I was feeling good, running at a nice pace on my way back home.
Suddenly, a road troll appeared and grabbed my ankle as I sped by. Okay, okay... I tripped. I just plain tripped over nothing. My big (read: oversized, giant) toe caught on the rough road and in slow motion, I went down with arms outstretched. I landed hard on my knees and hands. My first thought was, "Ooooooowwwww!" My second thought was, "I'm on my hands and knees on the side of a busy road during rush hour." So I rolled myself over and up onto the curb, sat there for a few seconds to get my bearings and assess my injuries, then stood up and ran home.
P.S. As I huffed and puffed up the final steep hill, the song Love Today by Mika came on my iPod. I decided then that it would still be a good day. And it is.