Muddy Puddles

After 10 long days, the rain has finally stopped falling and the sun has decided to reappear. The ground is a soggy mess and everything smells like dead worms and decaying foliage, but Timmy seemed oblivious to those details. I think he was just happy to be outside again.

Undeterred by the mud and determined to make the most of our sunshine, I changed into a sundress and joined my little explorer in the yard. He was delighted to play in our squishy, odoriferous and muddy yard, exploring throughout the afternoon. I could feel my anxiety melting away as the sunshine was beating down on my bare shoulders.

Timmy spent the afternoon running around the yard, happily searching for worms and splashing in the muck. I did my best to keep up with him. While he seemed to have no issues traversing through the mud, I didn't find it nearly as easy. The mud puddles were sticky, holding onto my prosthesis at every opportunity. I felt like I was walking on sponges dipped in glue.

I have decided that I dislike mud as much as, and possibly more, than ice. Mud is deceivingly slippery, a lesson I learned the hard way. Falling is a humiliating experience under the best of circumstances.  Falling in the mud takes humiliation to a whole new level.

Yesterday my prosthesis became stuck in a particularly deep mud patch. I pulled hard to release for my next step. Unfortunately my efforts resulted in my coming out of my leg and losing my balance. My prosthetic stayed upright in the mud pile while I ended up sliding down the mud hill in new sundress, face first in front of the UPS driver. There is no graceful way to recover from that entrance. 

I hate mud.