I’m allergic to leaves. And fall. And mustard, fish, cats, dogs, mold, pollen, stitches… if you’ve heard of someone being allergic to something, I probably am, too. Except peanuts and shellfish. Somehow, I’m fine with those. These allergies and other little issues make my husband say on a rather regular basis, “I wish I had known before I fell in love with you that I was picking a broken one.” Sorry dear. You put a ring on it, and now you’re stuck with me.
Before I had developed all of my allergies, I would do all sorts of things that I would never dream of doing now. Like going outside with my face uncovered if someone has just mown the lawn. Such a bad plan. It’s an insta-headache for me. And jumping into a pile of leaves. I don’t even know what would happen to me if I jumped into leaves now. I would probably go into anaphylactic shock or get a flesh eating bacteria. Something that would require a visit to the emergency room.
But, when I was little, I loved to jump into leaves. And not just what was from our yard. No! I had the best leaf pile ever. My mother’s Girl Scout Troop had an event in the fall, and all of the girls would bring all of the leaves from their houses to put into one giant pile. Then we would line up picnic tables and charge down them before leaping into to the air and landing in leaves!
It was the best! I mean, besides the obvious problems of possible broken bones, it was genius. And they sold tickets to other Girl Scout Troops to jump into the leaves, too. They made money off of this! Entrepreneurship at its best, my friends: turn your trash into a death defying game and make people pay to play.
But still, it was some of the most fun I had as a child. So, as the leaves begin to turn this month, I wish you all a happy fall. May your inner child run through the leaves of life with our breaking an arm. Or anything else that could land you in the hospital!