Feels just like I'm falling for the first time

So I've always had an issue with falling down. When I was little (like before I had hair little) my mother used to put pillows down all around the apartment because I was constantly falling down on the hard wood floor. I fell out of every device I was put into (how does a child fall out of one of those bouncy chairs? I found a way). When I was in elementary school, I came home at least twice a week with a note from the nurse saying I had fallen down and my mother should look for bumps, bruises, or if I started eating paste through a straw (the frequency of the notes actually had two reasons: a) I did fall down a lot and 2) we weren't allowed to use the bathroom during recess, so I used to tell the recess monitors that I had fallen and I needed to see the nurse and I would hit the restroom on the way to her office--although quite often it was a and 2).

The trips and stumbles continued as I got older. I was constantly falling down on the volleyball court. Sometimes it made for great sports highlight films: it looked like I was trying to go after a shanked ball and I was really sacrificing myself to get it. Of course, this rationale does not work when I would I fall down when the ball was on the other side of the court or we had taken a time out. Things got a little better in high school (I started wearing really flat shoes so I was as close to the ground as I could possibly get). There were a lot of moments with marching band. The worst was probably freshman year. My squad leader was first chair trumpet, so we were always right out in front. We were doing these stupid horn movements and I tripped and fell down and lost my hat because it was too big for my head. So I'm trying to pick up my hat when the entire marching band starts moving forward. I froze as the percussion section came barreling towards me--I remember thinking can they see me around those bass drums, or am I going to be trampled? But I stood up in time and finished the routine, without my hat, which eventually got kicked to the sideline.

Until recently, I thought me and gravity had come to an understanding. But in the last two weeks I have fallen four times. I don't necessarily mind falling in public; it happens. What I hate is when people don't laugh at me. Because, let's face it, it is hilarious when someone takes a tumble out of no where. I much prefer a good giggle to a stone-faced-what-a-freak look.

Maybe I have some sort of inner ear deficiency. Or maybe it is because I have the gracefulness of a near-sighted ostrich.

Maybe I should invest in a helmet.