Sadly, this isn't the first time.

I didn't even feel it coming on. I left Weaver Home. Nothing. Jumped out to pick up the gorgeous wooden box on the side of the road. Nothing. Stopped to pump gas. Nothing. Finished pumping gas. BAM! Just like that, there it was.

Waddle to the gas station or drive home? Gas station or sit? Waddle across parking lot or sit and possibly lose? No way will I make it home, so I began the waddle. I felt how ridiculous I looked, so I waddled around to my door, said a prayer and sat. Holding. Swing in feet. HOlding. Get adjusted to drive. HOLding.

Driving home I realized I had to stop by the ATM to deposit my checks from today. That bit of gas just may break me these days. Speeding through yellow light. HOLDing. While I'm at the ATM I think of how much humbling has come to me this year. I ask God to please spare me this embarrassment. I notice the camera on the ATM and laugh at the thought of some person watching me talk to myself. HOLDIng.

Money deposited, I do my usual whip around the machine forgetting there is the mother of all obstacles in a circumstance such as this, the speed BUMP. HOLDINg. Driving through the rest of the unusually rugged parking lot. HoLdInG.

Pulling into my parking spot at home, thanking God , I see the bag I need to take inside on the floor of the passenger side, requiring quite a bit of bending. Oh dear LORD! I prep myself for the dash; open and lock door, grab bag, shut door, and waddle like mad.

Deep breath... I make a dash for it. Door, lock, bag, door, waddle, stairs. Stairs? Stairs! HOLDING!

I get the front door unlocked, which if you've ever been to my house you know what a feat that is, drop my bags and waddle for it.

Just in time. Thank God!