So I think that it is time to go back to my childhood and
pull out some stories for the entertainment of my readers! As some of you may
know I was a very active little boy with more energy and imagination than I
knew what to do with. As a consequence I
was always getting into trouble/ hurting myself.
Perhaps
one my favorite stories of getting into trouble come from the first time I got a
detention at school which also happens to be my first “fight”! I say “fight” because I didn’t ever throw a
punch. I remember I was in second grade
and my friend Gwen and I were out on the playground when a kid named Greg came
up and said he was going to fight me.
Gwen stepped in and said he would have to fight her first. Greg said he would be back with his friends
and that we should get ready to get beat!
I’ll be honest at 7 I didn’t yet have my tough guy defense to get me out
of some of these sticky situations so I was pretty scared, so Gwen and I ran
around the playground getting all of our friends together to help us fight
Greg. We had maybe 12 kids but at that
age I felt like I was leading the charge of the royal cavalry with two full battalions
behind me! When Greg saw us coming he
had only 2 friends and he started to run away fr0om my Mob!
This “fight”
turned into a game of chase and when the bell rang I ran to the bathroom to
wash my hands. Next thing I know I come
walking out to go stand in line and Greg has been choke slammed to the ground
and I am being blamed for it! I had no idea
what had happened I just walked up to the Principal’s office and got given a
detention for nothing! So unfair… and
thus started my distrust of school leadership.
But that was the first time I got into a lot of trouble at school.
The
other story I blame my getting injured on my father! Let me set the stage for you. My brother and I had a sandbox in the
backyard under our beloved fort! One day
we were out there and decided that the sand box was boring and we wanted to go
to china! So we began digging and digging and digging some more! I would say the hole was about 8 feet deep…
in reality is was probably 5 or 6 but still an impressive feat for a 6 and 9
year old. Once we dug the pit we put our
tramp over it to provide shade. So there
we had it our very own pill box and bunker from all of our enemies! We decided that we needed a way to communicate
with the other person in the fort so we waited until our mother left cause she would
have never let us do this and when she went to a woman’s conference in Utah we
asked our dad if we could appropriate the old garden hose and put it in-between
the 2 sections of out fort so we could communicate with each other. He said yes so we did it and after wards
Russell went inside and I stayed outside playing. It was at this point mistake 1 was made. I looked at the hose and decided that it was
too long and I needed to cut off about 3 feet of it. I first tried ripping it… Not happening. Then I tried to use my beautiful teeth! This even probably caused my need for braces
later on in life. So I did what any self
respecting 6 year old would do. I asked
my dad for a knife!
Now in
my Fathers Defense I will say he probably though that giving me a pin knife
instead of a steak knife was a good idea cause who hurts themselves with a pin
knife!... well that would be me! I
walked out to my fort (armed and now un-supervised!) And proceeded to try and cut ¼ inch rubber
with the weakest knife known to man.
Well as I grasped the knife as hard as I could and pressed into the
Rubber I learned something that has been very valuable since then. I learned that Human flesh is not as strong
as rubber! I learned this when the lock
on my newly acquired play thing broke and the blade which was now incredibly
sharp and could cut through anything cut into my pinkie and blood went
EVERYWHERE!
I
somehow managed to scramble out of my pit and ran into the house with blood
pumping out of my hand and my dad the ever quick thinker pulls out one of my mother’s
white towels and tell me to hold it tight on my hand. I do and we all pile in the car for the
almost bi-weekly trip for Sam to the ER!
I use to be on a first name basis with Dr. Shelly and the CHOC ER
center! Anyways we get there and the
bleeding has stopped somewhat and I decide to look in my cut and I see this
weird white stuff inside of the cut and that is when I realized how bad I had
injured myself cause on this white stuff was a small scratch of where the knife
blade had nicked the bone of my right pinkie finger!
After
what seemed like an eon we got taken back to an ER room and a Doctor came in (not
Dr. ShellyL)
but still a cute female ;) and she sat down and numbed my hand and started
sewing and me the ever talkative person that I am began asking her if she sewed
a lot and she said that she was no good at sewing and could only sew when she
really really needed to. She then asked me if my Mother Sewed and I said “YES!...
but not hands.” At this the three nurses
the Doctor and my father all started laughing!
I had succeeded in my quest to make people laugh and with my new really
cool stitches I left with my hand throbbing and my head held high!
