Erica Lucke Dean

"Making the world a better place, one book at a time."

it's all in the genes

In the course of my day today, I had occasion to run from inside the bank, through the doors to the parking lot and up to a car to speak to someone before they drove away.  The specific reason for that trip is not in the least bit important.  The important part of this tale is that my assistant manager (we’ll just call him Phil) was apparently taking bets inside the building that I would fall down somewhere between the lobby and the car. (I didn’t.)  After I came back inside, he took the time to tell me how proud he was that I didn’t even trip once!  That said something to me.  First of all—people really do pay attention to what I’m doing throughout the day, and second—I must trip often enough that it seems like a safe bet to take.  I don’t mind really.  I feel like we should turn our negatives into positives, and my trouble with equilibrium is positively funny.  Even to me.  The time I ended up sprawled flat out on my bedroom floor, struggling to catch the breath that was knocked out of me when my stomach hit the hardwoods with a resounding thud; bowl full of ice cream in my hair and a small army of dogs trying to lick it off my head, wasn’t funny at the time but made for a very entertaining story around the water cooler.  I didn’t even wait until the bruises healed to tell the tale.  And I had some serious bruises that time!  I actually sprained my boobs on that fall!  I had no idea that something like that was even possible!  Despite all my bumps and bruises, amazingly enough, I have never broken a single bone!  I think it’s because I’ve become quite proficient at falling, and I let myself relax, knowing it will soon be over and bruises do eventually heal.

But I have decided that I am not alone.  There is a very scientific reason for my catastrophic lack of coordination, and I believe the root cause lies somewhere in my genes.  This has never been more evident than since I started writing this blog.  In the past three weeks, I have had multiple family members writing me with stories that they think I should include in a blog somewhere down the line, and after reading these stories, it has become glaringly obvious that I come by this affliction naturally! 

We have established that my father is a revolutionary who guards his home in his underwear with a laser armed defense system and a phaser that is never just on stun!  But, unbeknownst to me, apparently my mother is practically a fugitive from justice!  Rumor has it that not only did she kill someone’s gold fish by putting them in a toilet bowl while cleaning their fish bowl, but she knocked her older sister unconscious with a frying pan JUST for refusing to get off the telephone (this was obviously years before cell phones were available.)  My sister has a doctorate in education but I am reminded of the time we were on a mini road trip and out of nowhere she asked me what they taught in a Dwee school.  I wasn’t familiar with that particular school so I asked for more information.  “You know…a Dwee school!”  She insisted as she pointed to the shopping center we were passing.  I turned to look and started laughing hysterically.  “That’s not a Dwee school!  It’s a DUI school!” 

If I need to explain that any further, we are obviously related!

I honestly believe my entire family lives in mortal fear that I will one day share any one of the countless stories detailing their own individual afflictions and they will be forced to go underground until the whole thing blows over.  Lucky for them, it is unlikely that I will run out of stories of my own and probably won’t need to dip into their personal libraries. 

That being said…

I didn’t fall down today.  I didn’t walk into any walls.  I did bump into my husband and knocked his Blackberry out of his hand and under the bed.  He said I’m no longer allowed to approach him while he’s holding his cell phone, but I think he was joking.  I probably should be embarrassed by my tragic lack of grace, but I’ve actually made friends with it.  I’ve decided to accept myself as I am—flaws and all—with no apologies.  I truly do believe that there is a positive side to everything if you just take the time to look. 

Until the next time…I’ll be looking for the positive side to gray hair!

Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.