One day when I was eight ... or around that age ... my family decided to go to sunny Southern Indiana. I think we were buying something for our house. I don't know. All I know is that it was so boring that I evidently elected to play in the parking lot.
You know those cement blocks that are in parking lots to stop cars from rolling too far forward? Well I was jumping from one of those to the other and my foot decided to rip off part of one and cause me to fall. I was that powerful, or it was that broken. My shin bone met the edge of concrete, which was not pleasant to the skin and tissue that formerly laid anterior/superficial to the bone.
If you are reading this you are saying to yourself ... you are a klutz. If you are a member of my immediate family you are thinking .. wait, you told us specifically you were not jumping and were merely trying to balance on those things. Oops.
So yes I lied to my entire family because I thought I would get in more trouble having been jumping around. Sue me. I think someone may have yelled at the owner for having broken up parking lot thingers (do they have a name) that caused their evidently uncoordinated son to fall. Life goes on.
Well instead of rushing me to an emergency room for my inevitable stitches we decided to go to Smith's Furniture. Who? Smith's Furniture that's who (for all of you who remember that shitstorm of a commercial).
So I finally get my stitches and life continues. Now the truth is out and I feel so much better. Sorry mom, your son is a liar.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Actually, I think we went to Value City - worse than Smith's furniture. And, by the way, we knew you had been jumping around - because that is what you did.
yeah, we knew, but it had been terribly boring and i was so utterly thankful for the excitement. yes, blood is exiciting. weren't we AT smith's furniture? we did go to value city afterwards. what was i doing?
Post a Comment