I get knocked down....

But I get up again. And sometimes, like today, I just fall, in a heap, onto the floor. My ankle lets me down. It's never when I'm on my own and I can lie, distraught and bereft of dignity to swear a bit, cry a bit and then feel sorry for myself before dusting myself off and continuing on my way. No. It's always with an audience, of people I'd prefer to think of me as being calm, strong, capable and not a mardy arse. Today's incident was outside school when I was on my way back to the car with Miniman. Watched by a selection of more elegant mums who seem to be able to make a small journey without any trauma. I did my best to laugh it off and assure everyone I was fine.

It's still a bit sore. I still feel a bit sorry for myself....privately.