The Birthday Mud Jump

“I think I can make it,” I said, taking a few steps back.

Olivier was looking down at the small stream. “Are you sure?” He laughed, just a little. “It’s kind of far. It might be too far to jump. We can find another way around it.”

“No way,” I said, taking a few more steps back. “I just need a running start.”

“Okay,” he said, shrugging. I watched him as he stepped across the water and mud. “You’re sure, now? I can help you across, you know.”

“Nah… fuck that,” I said. “It’s no more than 3 feet. I can do it.”

I stood there in my pajamas, in the middle of the forest. It was Olivier’s birthday and we decided to take a detour through the forest before going to the bakery to pick up his cake.

I took a look around, too see if there were any possible eyewitnesses in the forest before I made my daring leap.

There was no one besides Olivier and myself.

I took another look at the muddy stream. In my mind, I could clearly hear the the horns of the Indiana Jones theme music playing.

For that brief moment, I was Indiana fucking Jones and a goddamn Warrior Princess all rolled into one.

I inhaled slowly, taking a deep breath before breaking into a run. When I reached the edge of the water, I leaped into the air, the triumphant theme music in my head reaching a heroic crescendo.

The sleeves of my frayed and worn sweater caught the wind, the pant legs of my pajamas fluttered, and my limbs floated in a manner that one might refer to as swan-like. Okay, well, I don’t think I’ve ever done anything that could be described as swan-like, but nonetheless, it was awesome.

My right foot landed in the mud. The sound of the squish interrupted my heroic and adventurous crescendo. My foot sunk deeper into the mud. The slapping sound of my hands smacking the Earth was loud enough that it was almost impossible to hear the scraping of my now exposed belly as it rubbed on the mud and pebbles.

I laid there for a few seconds, face-down on the ground. When I rolled over, I could hear the leaves in my hair crunching and smooshing. Olivier looked down at me, barely stifling his laughter.  “Are you all right?”

I squinted from the sun as I looked up at him. “Auugghhhh!”

Olivier leaned down and pulled me up off the ground. He started wiping mud off of my clothes.

“I’m Indiana Jones,” I said, pulling a dead leaf out of my hair.

“I know,” he said.

“I am a goddamn Warrior Princess.”

“Oh, I know.” He brushed dirt off of my scraped belly. “You sure are.”

We left the forest and went into the bakery.

People were standing around, buying their baguettes, tartes et gateaux.  I was waiting in line next to Olivier, looking at all of the pastries behind the glass. Then I noticed my reflection. My hair was a mess, complete with mud and dead leaves. Patches of dried mud were on my pants and my decomposing cardigan.

It was 3pm on and I was wearing pajamas.

People stared as they passed in and out of the bakery, apparently curious about the walking compost pile in sleepwear.

That was Olivier’s birthday last year. We just celebrated his birthday again yesterday.

The day was calm. He spent the morning watching some rugby show and reading in the bathtub. We went to Quick for lunch, because that was where he wanted to go, and who could blame him? We hardly ever eat fast food anymore, so it’s become a bit of an event these days.

We came home, watched a movie, and I made him dinner. We ate too much chocolate cake.

We went for a stroll through the forest, and I was wearing my pajamas. But, it was an uneventful trip this time.

Hell… how could I possibly top last year?