On the way out of China Gourmet, with a big bag of food in one hand, and Jet in the other arm, we encountered the concrete staircase from hell, which has two short steps to start and then three tall steps. I went up the two short steps, then kicked at the wall of the tall third step, and promptly fell forward. I had a glimpse of Jet, seeing his head going towards the edge of the concrete step and enough time to think, "He's going to hit..."
And my left arm, which was holding Jet, moved so that it hit the edge of the step first. The arm didn't turn out to catch my weight on the palm of the hand, as the right actually did, dumping the totally unimportant food stuffs. My left arm curled in to hold Jet closer to my body and took the impact of the fall right on the outside of the wrist and forearm. Jet never touched concrete.
The jolt scared him a little, and he cried for about half a minute, and a bit of bouncing, peering, and then sitting on the concrete step elicited play responses from him when two other adults came over to ask if they could help. I said, "Let me think." and did a thorough examination of Jet, and he wasn't scraped at all, or had even any red areas indicating a bruise. So Jet's completely fine. There's a big patch of concrete rash on the outside of my left hand/wrist, and it's good and bloody. Our dinner was mostly intact, just some spillage of the lo mein. And one of the restaurant people actually came out, repacked my bag and brought it to the car for me. Wow. That was pretty nice.
It is sobering to have it demonstrated in such concrete fashion the fact that I will sacrifice my body to protect Jet, and even more amusing to see that my reflexes haven't slowed down any and have figured out my priorities even better than my conscious thinking could do.
The dinner was well received. It helped calm things down when we were back home. And John and Jet went out in the evening to get me patch bandages large enough to cover the damage. Yay!