After yesterday's post regarding my injuries you would think I would learn my lesson. That I would stop acting like a dumbass and NOT HURT MYSELF.
You would think that.
I blame my husband and kids for what happens next.
I should also tell you that there was ALMOST video of this but I caught my husband and made him stop.
While eating a nice family lunch Codi out of nowhere asked me if I used to be a cheerleader. I told him that, "yes I had been when I was younger." He then asked me if I used to know how to do the jump splits. Again, "yes." He then informed me that daddy told him I could do that.
Which obviously led to Brandon and Codi BEGGING AND PLEADING for mommy to show them how I used to do the "jump splits" when I was younger.
I wanted to be cool. I wanted my kids to be wowed. So.
I did it.
I prepped (husband laughed as I got in position and said, "ready OKAY") bent, jumped, landed and then fell backwards onto my ass onto the hardwood. My husband laughed at me and told me to stop.
PSH I'm not stopping because I am going to land this bitch.
Jump. Land. Crash onto the hard wood.
Lather rinse repeat. Once I tried jumping and Charlie tried jumping with me and I almost did a cross between smashing and killing my dog and smashing and killing my face. I jumped a final time and landed in some kind of messy pile on the floor, THE HARDWOOD FLOOR and finally gave up. My ass hurts. My tail bone hurts. My back really really hurts.
Why don't I learn?
What would make a thirty year old women think she could still do cheerleading jumps?
What would make that same girl try to do a herkie jump after trying five jump splits?
I'm just thankful my husband didn't catch any of it on tape.
So yes, please send bubble wrap. And some smart pills because clearly I need a dose of intelligence.