Eric and I were driving back from my doctor appointment today and were talking about Stuff That Happened When We Were Kids. Mainly how both of us managed to avoid permanent damage and how I completely avoided breaking anything. As did my siblings, which is amazing considering the fact that both my younger sister and brother were hit by cars. In separate incidents, yet, no broken bones.
I then regaled him with one of my most astounding feats.
You know the game you probably played at the park with your friends on the swings? The one where everyone swings as high as they can, then jumps off and lands as close to the fence/enclosure as they can? They who land closest win. Well I won. I won in such a way that no one ever beat me. Ever. Probably still haven't.
So there we were: Vinnie, Leon, Ricky (childhood heartthrob) and Stacy. Swingin' away. Everyone jumps off, one by one and lands somewhere between the rubberized surface and the 2' space of asphalt that the chain link fence is embedded in. My turn comes and I jump.
This is where my memory gets a little fuzzy.
I sail through the air, with the greatest of ease. I fly over the chain link fence and land sitting on the bench just on the other side of the fence. Not on my head on the asphalt surface. Not on my head on the stone and wooden, splintery green bench. Sitting. I was so astonished that I didn't know how to respond. I was stunned, winded, surprised, scared. exultant and laughing hysterically all at the same time. My friends all came running around the fence to make sure I was OK and so I was. I claimed the Swing Jumping Distance title and everyone agreed.
Then there was the time where I just barely missed having my femur broken by the horse that tried to roll on it, my foot broken by a horse that decided to step and leannnnn on it, not dropping the exceedingly heavy motorcycle during my Motorcycle Safety Foundation test, numerous car crashes just barely avoided, one big car crash that should have killed me but didn't do anything other than leave me with scratches and finally, meeting and falling in love with Eric.
Then there's the luck involved in getting pregnant when you want to be, having a great first pregnancy, living in the right time period where a stubbornly closed cervix doesn't kill you and the baby and having a ridiculously healthy twin pregnancy. I swear I'm starting to feel like I'm bizarrely suited for a twin pregnancy. I may be in pain and tired, but I don't look it, so everyone cheers about how fab I look, how the twins' growth is good and how I'm not on bed rest or likely to go into early labor. Hell, I'm not even anemic which is fairly common for twin pregnancies.
Life is funny, isn't it?
So. Do you feel lucky? Do ya?
I think I'll go knock on some wood.