A moral tale (on slippery foundations)

Well, O Best Beloved, I have had full-on horrible man flu for five days, during which time I missed the entire start of the festive season, including the annual reunion of my University posse - on what would, this year, have been the ten year anniversary of our first meeting. I am utterly gutted and therefore rather annoyed that this morning life added injury to insult by tripping me up on a piece of invisible ice outside Caffe Nero.

It did however teach me a valuable lesson: at the time I was thinking how irritating and noisy school children are and focusing my silent hatred on a particular group standing just in front of me. All of a sudden out went my feet and over I slid, cracking my elbows and throwing my ginormous coffee half way up the street. And who is it that rushes over to help me up and send me back to Caffe Nero for a free replacement? Yep, you guessed it. Those very same irritating and noisy school children, who actually turned out to be rather sweet. We slid up the street together to my office where I waved them goodbye and skated in with my tasty new coffee and a series of rather fine bruises up my elbow.

What do you mean, there's a moral to this story?