"Aaron hates losing" or "Aaron gets it, why can't you?"

Last week I had to go down to the church during school to return a book to the library and to get a new one. I left the two smallest children at home with Annie and took Aaron with me. On the way there, Aaron wanted to race me so I ran. Of course I ran faster than him and he hates losing so he started urging me to to hold his hand, knowing it would slow me down. Naturally I refused and kept running. As we neared the end of the parking lot and approached the grass area beside the church I decided to show off a little and leap over one of the parking bumpers. I, of course, tripped, as one tends to do when one is showing off. Since it was a trip at high speed, I ended up rolling. My ankle and me, finishing up with a summersault and landing face first, nose mashed into the grass. My ankle did hurt but mostly I stayed down there in the grass because I was laughing so hard. Aaron panicked, assuming I was dead or similar. After a few moments he realized I was laughing and joined in, "you fell and that was funny, mommy," confirming my long held belief that: "Falling is always funny."