bear“Adding insult to injury…”
~Anonymous Idiom

Sometimes, random things happen. Sometimes, random twitches are shown in public. Sometimes, random things are said. And Sometimes, I steal them… for character flaws, story ideas, and yes, blog entries.

Kram had a friend over last weekend. Not one of our 70’s Show regulars, but a new boy. Nice kid. Talked weapons and ancient Japanese warfare with Hippie for a while and seems to get the house rules (I don’t care whose kid you are…my house, my rules, and I will beat you with a flipflop if necessary).

I’m not sure what conversation was going on in the house, or how it led to the following, but said child wandered out to the green couch, plopped down in a chair, and point-blank asked, “What’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to your head?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the worst accident or injury you got on the head?”

Hmmm… Interesting question. And before I answered the question, I declared, “I’m stealing that for the blog!” So here it is. What is the worst injury you’ve ever received to the noggin? And to go with today’s chosen quote, how’d you get it? Was it your fault? Got scars? (Because scars are cooler than milk). Tell me a tale of pain and blood and bandages and stitches and whatever else you got…

Me? Ohhh I have two that come to mind. The first one I was 5 years old. Billy Stock, kiddy-corner from us, and I had just finished watching King Kong. He was Kong, I was Fay Wray. I was pretend screaming and walking backwards and he stumbled zombie-style toward me. And then I tripped. I fell straight back and bounced off a broken piece of sidewalk that was jutting up from the ground. I cried, yelled something at Billy about how it was all his fault, and started to walk back to the babysitters… because yes, traditionally as a kid, if I got injured it was while with a babysitter. Halfway there, about the second house in a very short trip four houses down, I pulled my hand away from my head and saw that my entire arm was covered in blood. Then it’s kind of a blur. There was a towel. There was the hospital floor (I think I was on one of those face-down tables). There was a lollipop from the bottom right drawer of the admin’s desk (because yes, by that point and well beyond it, I knew where the lollipops were stashed at the emergency room). I had stitches. I forgave Billy. I still have a love/hate relationship with King Kong.

The second was an even bigger blur. I was in my early teens. Tomboy. Playing street hockey with the guys, as goalie. I saw the puck coming. Then I was flat on my back with faces above me. That’s it. Nothing in between. I had a lovely dent on my forehead and my jaw hurt (I’m sure my teeth slammed together). I didn’t blame any of them. I still played hockey. No stitches required, though I probably had a concussion… I honestly don’t remember much more than oh-shit-puck-coming and then faces above me.

So? What did you do? How’d you do it? I’m betting mine are actually boring. Normal childhood injuries, well, except maybe the King Kong part. One with no evidence it ever happened, and the scar from the other is hidden underneath all this hair. But that’s what I’ve got. Now what’s yours?

One Response to Band-aids

  • wolfnoma says:

    Quick and easy? I have had two major injuries to my head. I was shot in the face by Al Minnow with a Crossman Pump Pellet gun and I had me head split open when I was in the Navy. Both stories are quite fun to tell. Pick one and I will spill all the juicy details.

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