All you need is faith and trust.
And a little bit of pixie dust.
Think of the happiest things.
It’s the same as having wings.
Until it isn’t.
Yes, like Britney Spears, I did it again. I fell from grace. Oops.
Seconds before I had skipped as happy as a cloud across the garage floor and leapt into the air like a gazelle. The plan was to land on some spilled dried macaroni pasta and make a deliciously satisfying crunch.
I jumped and my happy thoughts and pixie dust saw my feet rising of the floor, past my head and up into the sky. There was a moment when airbourne, that I thought I was flying.
And then I realised the opposite was true and in fact I wasn’t.
That’s when the pixie dust failed.
My initial landing would have won me 10 points on the gymnastic mat. It was the weight of my ego-inflated noggin that did me in.
Gravity is not something to be denied by a mere mortal such as I. My head hit the immovable force that is the planet Earth.
Tweety birds and sarcastic Tinkerbells flew around my eyes in dizzying circles.
Then I heard the laughing. The guffawing. The snickering.
After ensuring I was in fact still alive, my son and spouse were doubled over weeping.
I think in future I shall buy bubble-wrap and jump on it in private.
The Blurred Line 