My life flashed before my eyes as I heard my daughter say those words. She was in the living room, spinning and spinning in circles, making herself dizzy, totally oblivious to the dangers close by. That is what scared me.
You see, we have some pretty substantial furniture in our living room. The couch came from one grandmother of mine. The end tables and coffee table came from the other grandparents. The coffee table and I have a history. Once upon a time I was a ballerina. I was two or three years old (family - feel free to comment on this part), and I was invincible. I had already scaled the woodshed unscathed. Was anything going to stop the ballerina? Uh, yeah. That coffee table. I evidently decided to test physics sometime around Christmas Eve. I was spinning and spinning, until I fell down, against that coffee table. Then I got to have stitches. I still remember being strapped into the papoose board and having a cloth lowered over my forehead. I do not remember my close encounter with the table though, only the stories.
Now I was watching my daughter spin beside the exact same table. Who says history doesn't repeat itself? Let's just hope she doesn't meet the table head-on.
1 comment:
I;m dying to know...did she fall? I'm guessing not, since there's no next post detailing stitches or x-rays. oh, how dngerous those coffee tables are to little ballerinas.
happy dancing!
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