Excuses

I love to find excuses to read. That way I feel safe. That everyone around me knows not to bother me. To let me be. Because if I get a good excuse, I can read for hours.

On Sunday, I unleashed one of my many qualities of a klutz, and fell at the ice skating rink in Prospect Park. My mom not in sight, I tried limping and skating at the same time which didn't work at all. I crawled over to a bench, not making eye contact with the dad I knew from somewhere or other. I blinked back the tears, and finally saw my mom's familiar brown coat in the distance. I dragged myself to the entrance gate a desperately waved and called her name. She looked over, but it was my six year old sister who reached me first.

"What happened??" She questioned. I just looked at her, I didn't have the strength to answer her. My mom came to me then and lifted me off my feet to carry me to a bench. I started crying at once. While telling my mom everything that happened, I realized that I was the only one in the family who had never severely injured herself. I didn't know what it felt like to be hurt badly somewhere in the body. We drove home, and I was carried to my room where I was greeted with a bag of ice and a pillow to elevate me leg.

My dad came into the room, and sat down next to me. Just the simple strokes of his fingers made me feel better. He leaned over to reach for my book, and a smile came across my face. I read for so long, that I could feel my knee thawing off from the ice, not necessarily the effect my parents were looking for from it. But I simply didn't care. In what seemed like ten minutes, I had gone from page one to page 36.

I always look for excuses to read, and sometimes I don't at all. Sometimes it's good enough to just sit down and read. Sometimes all you need is a great book, an ice pack, and a sprained knee.