Soggy Socks

As I walked down Rue Clotilde I felt the water penetrating through the holes of my old and worn Minnetonka moccasins. I was headed for Place Saint Genviève to find my favorite café and escape Paris's November rain.
I'd been having a rough day (it was just 4 days before Thanksgiving) and I couldn't wait to get out of the rain and sit in my café.
I had been restless all day and was walking at a speed faster than normal, just rushing to get to a cup of tea. As I turned the corner, my old Minnetonka's lost traction on the old cobblestone street and I fell.
"Merde!" I muttered to myself. (I've gotten pretty good with the French "four-letter words.")
"Ca va?" asked a man walking in my direction.
"Oui, merci," I said quickly picking myself up, pretending it hadn't happened.
I took off quickly and continued on my way, but about half way down the block I let out a giggle to myself . . . I could only imagine how funny it must have been for that man to see me take a spill. As I laughed to myself, I was reminded of the time that my cello teacher had once told me that there are times where you have to decide whether to laugh or cry. I could either laugh because I had taken spill that must have been pretty funny to watch, or I could cry because I was having a bad day, my socks were soggy, and I had fallen.
Sure, my knee was a little bruised, but once I started laughing about the situation, it wasn't so bad. "Laughter is the greatest medicine." It's so true, and we musn't take life too seriously. Sometimes we (when I say "we," I really mean, "I") get too wrapped up in seeing the negative and we forget to laugh and life's humor that we stumble upon.
LAUGH. LAUGH. LAUGH. LAUGH. LAUGH. LAUGH.