Break a leg for good luck, I say

While watching the Olympic skiing events, I am reminded of the expression, "break a leg" and how it's used to wish someone good luck, in spite of what how that may appear. If someone actually broke a leg after such a "wish" of good luck, I think most of us would absolutely be mortified. Well, sometimes you can break a leg even with lady luck "at" your side; lady luck in this case was my older sister.

When were we kids, you could often times find one or more of us tagging along with my folks when they'd do their errands. We took rides along the Merrimac river to JM Fields, to The Mill in Exeter for fabric, or maybe to the A&P just down the street. It gave us time together and kept us out of trouble; a win win situation, I'd say.

Once, I remember going with my sister and Dad downtown to the local Western Auto to pick up some thingamabob. Who knows exactly, but we had driven our old blue Ford sedan, one of those with the fins in the back, circa 1955. After completing our business with Mr. C. Rousseau, who reminded me of Uncle Albert (Ed Wynn) in "Mary Poppins", my sister grabbed my hand and led me to the door where we stood in the alcove off the sidewalk. My father had already gone out ahead of us and was standing on the street side of the car, which was parked right out front. Meanwhile, my sister gripped my hand tightly and cautioned me that there was a cyclist coming down the sidewalk. In my excitement to be with my Dad, I broke away from my sister, only to put this biker and me on a collision course. CRASH!!! There we were in a heap...of trouble. The young fellow on the bike, I believe, walked away OK, but I couldn't walk. My Dad had to carry me to the car, and off to the hospital we went for Xrays.

You probably have guessed it by now that the Xrays confirmed my Dad's suspicion that there was more than just a bruise. With the whole summer ahead, what could be worse than wearing a heavy plaster cast? Apparently not much. Except for swimming, I played whiffle ball while batting from a chair and a whole host of other things. In fact, my father had to replace the cast about once a week, as I wore them out just as fast as he could put a new one on.

If only I had listened to my sister and held her hand, I would have avoided this whole little incident from my youth. Now that I have aged and presumably matured, I still cherish the "hand holding" I get from my older sisters. They have always been there to pick me up when I've been knocked off my feet, just like my Dad had been on that day many years ago. I do have 4 intelligent, wonderful, and fun loving "ladies" at my side, "the sisters". I love them all, and consequently, I do consider myself very lucky indeed!