It was the perfect day for our local high school’s state softball tournament. My husband and I sat near the top of the stadium and cheered on the girls. Of course, just as the game got particularly exciting, nature called.

I whispered to Curt. “I’ll be right back. I need to go to the restroom.”

His eyes stayed focused on the field. “Want me to go with you?”

“Nah.” I stood up.  “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” He glanced over at me. “You can hang on to my arm as you go down the steps.”

I shook my head. “It’ll be fine, I said again. “I’ll keep a hand on the railing.”

It all worked out perfectly until I reached the bottom platform. Gripping the handrail, I walked by a line of softball dads who were watching the game from the flat, metal walkway. Suddenly, everyone around me looked up at the sky and yelled. “HEADS UP!” A pop-up foul ball blasted into the air directly above me.    

When I looked up, I immediately felt dizzy. Losing my balance, I fell backwards. As I braced for impact, one of the dads extended his arms and caught me under each armpit during mid-fall.  Oh. My. Gosh.

At that moment, I knew I had a choice to make. I could:

#1. Slink off to the restroom and hide.

#2. Get angry. Once again, MS had made a complete fool out of me.

Or #3. Be grateful I wasn’t hurt and laugh about the awkward position I was in.

First, I thanked the guy for his swift assistance. Then I remembered my husband. Had he seen the whole ordeal? I really hate it when he’s right. I looked up and scanned the bleachers. From the middle of the crowd, he stared down at me with a smirk, shaking his head.

That’s when I decided which choice I would make. I’d go with #3.

Laugh.

After all, what could be worse than falling into the arms of another man? Answer: When your husband watches from afar and catches you in the act.