When I was a kid, I broke my wrists.
A few times.
In fact, I was so good at collecting casts in the emergency room, I once fell and sprained my left wrist while my right arm was wrapped already in plaster.
Falling off a chair, scratching my back while jumping into a pile of leaves and slipping on a pillowcase while running down a hallway are just three of the ways I wounded myself when I was between the ages of 5 and 7.
Apparently, I hadn’t learned how to fall properly. And so, my parents hired my 2nd grade teacher to show me how to hit the ground without breaking any bones.
I wish I was making this up but thanks to Mr. Jones, my skeleton has been in tact since elementary school.
Which brings me to my current dilemma.
Last Monday, my lower back started to feel a bit stiff. It’s been a weak area since my daughter was born because children hurt. Forever. Six days later and the pain - although under control - is exquisite at times and if not for a heating pad,
Now, you might wonder what brought this on.
Kickboxing practice? Marathon run training? Karate chopping boot camp?
Other, dirty things?
I hurt my back by sitting.
In a car.
And now my back is f**ked.
Apparently I haven’t learned how to sit properly.
I wonder if Mr. Jones is free after school...