The Woes of Skateboards

Friday night I ran out through the garage to get my purse out of the car. When I opened the door from the house to the garage, it was very dark, but I decided it was such a short distance, I’d be fine without light. NOT a good idea.

As I sprinted across the garage, my feet landed on the boys’ skateboard. I took a brief, unexpected, ride, before I flew into the air, knocking down the bikes as if they were bowling pins, with the side of my face.

That may sound bad, but it actually cushioned my blow to the hard cement garage floor. I laid there in silence, dizzy, and dumbfounded from the fall. After decades (well maybe just minutes), I came to my senses, and was able to walk back into the house, still bewildered, and groggy.

I went to a movie that night, feeling slightly disoriented and light-headed, but desperately needing a night out. I thought things were fine until I began to get flu like symptoms. I was so nauseous; I spent hours feeling like I was getting a bad case of the flu. No flu.

In the morning, I felt like I had run a marathon. My legs, arms, back, neck, head, every part of my body hurt.

I have fully recovered from my little mishap, but after this, and Mike breaking his ankle on a skateboard in July, I am convinced that our family should be a skateboard-free family.