4 years old. Doug and Connies trampoline. Collin... the principle instigator. The game had always been... always been bounce the shoes and don't let them touch you. Instant death if one of those shoes touched you. I don't know if we just didn't have enough shoes or we thought we'd up the ante.... but soon enough we started putting on harmless rocks. I'm not sure who decided that a rock as big as my head was a good idea to put on the tramp... but soon enough there it was. The rocks flew joyfully through the air. It could have been any of those rocks... but it wasn't. It was the one as big as my head... that landed right on my head. I woke up an hour later. That's good stuff. Knocked me clean.
7 years old. Roylance and Earl reunion. Right before the annual pine cone fights or races. Big playground toy. I was pretty good at playing on those toys. Fireman's pole. I had to slide down it. I just had to... I had to swing my head back as well apparently. A flash of lights inside my head. I felt a little dizzy... a little bit of pain. I walked towards the bathroom. Cousin Mitch walks in while I'm attempting to check my wound. I hit my head on a bolt. Great. He tells me "Whoa! You're bleeding!" I freak out and start crying. I end up with 7 stitches in my head. Mitch lets me play his nintendo game. I'm pretty sure I lost to that roylance girl again in the race. Like 7 years in a row. Blasted girl.
20 years old. On my mission. At the Hasting Church building. After a Zone Meeting. Dangerball. A super barry bonds on steroids version of dodgeball. I got a little carried away. I was too dominating in the game I'm afraid. I ran into the middle. I did a cartwheel and dodged a throw. Rookies. I put up a sick one handed stall. Mid stall (probably like two minutes into it... or like 4 seconds.), Elder Weaver chucks a ball at my stomach. I tried to dodge. I don't. I collaspe onto my shoulder. It separates... the silly thing. Two and a half months later... still not healed. It was a sweet stall though.
Good stuff.
5 comments:
Okay, these stories are why I'm always freaked out about being a mom to boys. Seriously, why do all you boys do these things?
Yes, boys are crazy! However, they seem to be much more creative and better at entertaining themselves.
By the way, why am I not on your list of blogs?? Not cool, man.
OK funny. I read that aloud to Collin and he just laughed and said "Ha, I remember that".... man I don't know about having any boys!
ahhh that tells me so much about you knocked out, bleeding, stitches to the head know wonder you are the way you are-nena
you make me laugh.
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