Friday, February 15, 2008
I was just sitting at my desk, stressed about this PowerPoint I have to do, and all I could think about for a minute was little Troy James Ellermeier falling from the bed. I just envisioned (and it's making me giggle just thinking about it) his little body all tucked into itself, hands, feet, just like he always lies, falling through the air toward the ground. In my mind he has enough time to begin to rotate, much like buttered bread always does, face down toward the carpet. I see him having enough time to feel the fall as the gravity driven wind blows across his tightly closed eyes, and in a moment of realization he wakes, looks at the impeding crash and has this realization, "Well, now, I've never had to deal with this, what do I do?" And what does a baby do, at what age does your body know to reach out it's arms and brace itself for impact? I'm guessing it's not three months. Anyhow he just has to take it. He just hits the ground waking his aunt in the other room (oh and maybe he bounces just a little bit, oh God please tell me bounced a little bit) and forever becomes one of the greatest short stories we will ever get to verbalize, and why? Because it came on the same day little Dane Ellermeier slammed his wiener in the toilet.