The lines were incredibly long to enter the park.  It was our second day at Disneyland, and the crowd had doubled in size.  Why was everyone here on a Monday?!  I began weaving my family in and out of position to have the best advantage.  Strollers were everywhere, along with all kinds of motorized contraptions for those needing mobility assistance.

I had a plan:  once through the gates, make a bee-line for Fantasyland, specifically, the Peter Pan ride.  Beat the crowds and check it off the list!  I relayed the strategy to my troops.  We were on a mission, and they had their marching orders.

We were in.  Scanning the mob, I gave the command, “Go to the right and stay focused!  Walk fast!”  Goofy was signing autographs off to the side of the Main Street loop, catching 5-year-old Olivia’s attention.  “Not now.  We can look for him later.  Keep moving!”  Main Street was shoulder-to-shoulder people with the horse-drawn cable-like-cars honking their way through the masses.

The tension in me was mounting.  The happiest place on earth was quickly becoming the most stressful place on earth.  I was painstakingly keeping step with my 15-year-old daughter, Jessica… zig-zagging our way through the multitude.  My aggression was now leading to some mouthy comments, as I began to mock the funny, buggy characteristics of those we were zooming past.

As Main Street widened to the circular plaza, the crowd thinned out.  My intensity, however, continued to escalate, realizing we were in the lead of this imaginary race to Peter Pan.  Approaching the castle, my stride was almost to a jog.  As Ed wheeled Olivia over to the castle walkway flattened out for strollers… Jess, Cory and I took the more direct route.  A simple curb stood between me and the home-stretch.

In my haste, the toe of my bright pink Columbia shoe caught the top of the curb.  Not to be overly dramatic, but time stood still as my mind contemplated the inevitable.  I was going down.

Falling as an adult has to be one of the most embarrassing events that can happen.  Suspended in mid-air, I was actually thinking about this.  Who would notice?  How quickly could I get up?  Would a crowd surround me?  Laughter?  Pain?  “Stop daydreaming and save yourself,” was the next thought screaming through my brain.  No such luck.

Hard doesn’t even begin to describe my fall.  I hit the pavement and LITERALLY bounced three times.  It was an ugly series of belly flops in front of this most beautiful castle.  Wow.  Really?? … I REALLY just did that?? … Yep!!

My family gawked at me.  Stunned.  Mom fell.

Eddie quickly raced over to help.  The way I landed, he expected my face to be covered in blood.

Caring more about my dignity than the excruciating pain, I hopped to my feet.  Looking into Eddie’s eyes I lamented, “My shoulder is busted.  I know I’m going to need surgery involving pins and screws.  I can’t move it.”

Mission aborted.

I Thessalonians 5:16  “Be joyful always.”

(to be continued…)