I was there strictly for the yearbook. Camera in hand, I took pictures of the Sadie Hawkins event at my high school. My expectations, however, fell sideways and tumbled onto the floor. My peers looked at me the way celebrities look at paparazzi. I loved taking pictures, but they hated having their pictures taken. Fortunately, this night, something else was about to lure me: fun. It came in the form of an inflatable slide. I looked at that slide and it baited and reeled me in. Our worldly desires often mislead us.
The slide’s design allowed two people to go down it at once. Who would go down it with me? My drama teachers’ wife, Mrs. Anderson, stood nearby. She made a good candidate. One problem existed, however, that we failed to recognize: We were both just a tad overweight.
First, Mrs. Anderson climbed to the top of the slide. Then I followed. As I neared the top, I began to have trouble climbing the slide. My feet began slipping off the ladder.
“Help me, Mrs. Anderson, help me!” I cried out.
She leaned to help me. Our combined weight flipped the slide over onto its side. I felt like a tree as the lumberjack calls “timber!” I screamed. She laughed. We tumbled onto the floor and rolled about on top of each other.
While most people use “laugh out loud” (LOL) or “rolling on the floor laughing” (ROTFL) as figures of speech, that night, I literally rolled on the floor, laughing. Mrs. Anderson never let me forget that night. She told everyone she knew about it and whenever I see her she exclaims, “Help me, Mrs. Anderson, help me!” We learned that slide cometh before a fall.