Talking Like a Pirate, Driving Like an Idiot

For those of you who don’t know, yesterday was International Talk Like a Pirate Day. I began the observance early, greeting the kids at the table with “Avast, me wee buccaneers! I see ye be eatin’ your fine Cheerios and sea-tack already!” Curiously, instead of the usual chorus of “You’re wierd, Dad!” I instead got two separate cries of “Stop it, Dad!” Grumpy kids. They must not have had their coffee yet.

In other news, I’d been feeling very slightly smug even since Daniel had his bike accident back in April, as I’d been riding for a while without incident. My smugness evaporated this morning, as while I was taking a left turn from RR12 onto Holland Street (in front of Jive Turkey), my wheels, dampened from a slog through dew-moistened grass, went completely out from under me. I landed on hip and helmet, pretty well shredding my slacks. While I certainly felt the impact, my head was pretty well undamaged, thanks to the helmet doing exactly what helmets are designed to do. My forearm was a bit torn up as well, though I was fortunately in good enough shape to hastily get myself and my bike out of the road.

A quick trip home, a new pair of pants, some antibiotic ointment, and I was back on the road again, making it into the office the second time without incident. Huzzah.