My Pseudonym Exposed

She runs along the path, shoes thumping a tattoo on the asphalt as her legs carry her forward. Her leonine strides encompass a fluidity of motion, screaming to be captured on an artist's canvas. Her hair, streaming behind her, bounces side to side in a mimic of her movements. He attempts to capture the attention of this vision, when all of a sudden.. *SPLAT!*

She stumbles over her own feet, losing her balance. Arms outstretched, she lands face first, sliding on the dew laden grass like a baseball player trying to steal 3^rd. With a shake of her head, she sits up gingerly. Pulling bits of debris from her hair and sloughing off the grime on her hands, she looks upwards towards him and says.

*cue James Bond theme*

"Call me Grace. Grace Klutz"

Yes ladies and gentlemen, that's me; Miss Klutz'. I've been hiding under a pseudonym for too long now. It's time I came out and admit who I really am.

Throughout my life I have attempted to hide the facts of my true identity. It has not been easy either! In some circles I am so well known that children are swept out of my path; precious memorabilia is hidden behind locked doors; fine china is barricaded in cabinets beyond my reach.

I was given the name of Grace' before my first birthday. It has stuck and been with me ever since. *sigh* At the age of 5, I was conversing with a gentleman of 40 odd years about myself. In the course of the exchange, I shook my head in disgust uttering "I am so spastic " as I dropped the item I had been holding. With a chuckle, this gentle man inquired if I knew what that word meant. With a haughtiness only a child can produce, I responded with aplomb: "Of course I do. That means I am clumsy!"

I can trip up AND down stairs, slam my hips into extra wide doorways, stumble on minute cracks in walkways and have my head find every fly ball at a softball game. And I am here to tell you people, there is NOTHING soft about those darn things!!!

I have had broken bones, gashes, cuts and bruises. I've worn casts, stitches and bandages. I've used crutches and canes. Muscles have been pulled, tendons snapped and joints dislocated. In other words: I AM A WALKING (or hobbling) DISASTER!

Hubby, being the adorable person that he is (muchos besos mi amore) has even gone so far as to "Grace-proof" our home. Think baby proofing and multiply by a factor of five. It's embarrassing when we have guests. Even the kids think it's funny.

It has been my lot in life to bear. With time it has gotten easier to accept. I'm sorry though the spastic gene did not end with me. There is an upside to it all though. I'll never have to worry about doing dishes ever again. We can't afford to keep replacing them.

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See more of Grace's skewed views on life at her personal blog.

(Okay Bruce, now's your chance)