November 10th, 2020

I have a funny story to tell you.  Well at least, I was amused.

The above photo is of my legs.  Chicken Legs they've been called coz they are scrawny.  You can see how much wider the legs of my shorts are compared to my pipe cleaner legs.  But you know what?  I don't care a bit how they look.  My legs are strong and they get me where I need to go.

I used to be a runner. Did you know that?  Periodically through my life, I have, willingly, intentionally, strapped on my sneakers and hit the road (or the track) and just, well, ran.  There is something about the rhythm and the mindlessness of it that is soothing.  I don't have to think about it, my body is kind of like a machine and once it knows what to do, it just does it.  Which allowed my brain to wander off.  I solved problems, I had inspirations, I answered questions and sometimes I came up with new ones.  I made plans, I organized and composed music, letters and sometimes short stories, all while running.

I don't run anymore, but I walk a lot.  Oh, every once in awhile, I get a wild hair and break into a run. But not often and not far.  Still walking feels good. I genuinely enjoy it.   I walk to town, I walk all over the island, I walk on the beach.  I walk my errands instead of driving them whenever possible and of course I hike with Joy regularly.  And I rely, once again, on my good strong legs to get the job done.  They have never let me down.

Until last night.

It was an ordinary night and I was sound asleep.  Well that part isn't so ordinary is it?  Usually I'm up and down throughout the night desperately trying to sleep.  but for whatever reason, last night, at last at the moment of this story, I was deeply asleep.  In fact, I was so deeply asleep that I didn't fully wake up when I realized that I needed to pee.

In the way that we do in the middle of the night, I came just awake enough to realize that I needed to go to the bathroom. So of course, I slid out of bed and began the short walk to the john.  I took one step forward and promptly fell on the floor.  I mean I just collapsed in a heap.  What on earth?

I don't know how or why, but my right leg was fully asleep.  Completely totally and entirely snoozed out.  Once I realized the problem, I woke up a bit more and between using my left leg and grabbing the side of the bed, I pulled myself back up to a standing position.  I took a deep breath, steadied myself and attempted to step forward once again.  

I felt myself collapsing and grabbed the bed post so I didn't go all the way down this time.  I began to giggle at the ridiculousness of it all. But Tim was still sound asleep and I didn't want to wake him so I tried to stifle the giggle.  I also hauled myself fully upright once again, weight on the left leg only and debated how to proceed.

Grabbing the wall with my left hand, I kind of lurched forward from the wall to the door handle to the door frame, banging into everything in my way and staying upright through luck and sheer determination.    So here's the picture:  giggling, stifling, lurching, banging, grabbing, collapsing and all the while, needing to pee.  By the time I reached the bathroom I just full on right out loud began to laugh.  By the time I finally wiped the final laugh tears from my eyes, my leg had woken up sufficiently to get me back to bed, safely.

As I snuggled back into my comfy little nest I remembered something that happened way back when I was a kid living in one of the California houses.  I recalled waking up and being surprised that I was the only one awake.  My parents were always very early risers and this was the first time that I was the only one awake.  It was a strange feeling.  I wandered around the house feeling a little Twilight Zone-ish.  Finally I walked to the doorway of my parents room.  I just stood there, quietly, not sure what to do when my dad woke up.   Like most parents, he had kid ESP.  Almost all parents just know when their kid is in need.  

First he blinked at me and said, "Are you ok?"  Then he must have realized how much sunlight was shining around the curtains because he grabbed his watch on the beside table and squinted at the face.  The time expressed on the watch must have been alarming because he threw back the covers and leaped out of bed and proceeded to just crumbled onto the floor.  My mother, who woke up a split second after he did and had already sat up, blinking owlishly around the room, saw him disappear from her sight when his legs went out from under him, began to laugh.  She laughed until she howled.

The entire time she was laughing she was apologizing for laughing and between gasps and guffaws, attempted to ask him if he was ok.  Me, the little kid, baffled by this strange morning, went back to my room so I have no idea what transpired after that.  I can only assume that eventually my dad's legs woke up and he did what he always does before heading out the door for his workaday.  And my mother eventually got her laughter under control enough to get my sister and I up and out to school.

History has a way of repeating itself, or so I'm told.   The only difference here was that it was only my right leg that refused to wake up where in my dad's case, it was both legs.  And while my mother began laughing immediately, Tim didn't laugh at me until I told him the story just about an hour ago.

Still funny. Still giggling.  

Hope you have an excellent day!