ok, so the grizzly is coming at me. he already ripped my shoulder to shreds. i'm bleeding profusely while trying to keep a cool head and attempt nonfaintage. i parry with a thrust,** throw my right arm up and receive two more ghastly wounds down my right arm. i knew this would be my last shot, he had tasted blood and had a crazed look in his wee beady eyes.
this is a hedgehog, but you can see the killer instinct and utter terror you would experience at the hands of such a beady eyed killing machine (ignore that little guy to the right)...my second scar is robbie's fault. all his fault and he should feel guilty and buy me presents for the rest of the time he is allowed on th planet. i was in fifth grade, fiona in first and robbie in eighth. obviously, he should not have been left in charge. we were all alone with no parental supervision after school. we were eating something (unimportant) that involved cheese (important). he said something stupid and big brothery. i, wittily, intelligently, gracefully threw a smooshed up ball of shredded cheese at him. and missed. he threw cheese at me (the nerve!). and hit me in the face.
this is when it got serious.
a cheese fight ensued, naturally. and then he started running away! unfair! and i chased him. he went up the stairs to the computer room and exited to the outside stairs to head for the backdoor. i was close on his heels. he made some headway when he hit the ground and slammed the backdoor in my face. well, actually my hand.
my right hand attempted to stop the progress of the pane of glass in the backdoor and failed. miserably. in slow motion (yes, it does happen), my hand progressed through the glass. leaving me with a six inch gash on my wrist under my pinkie and a three inch gash on the inside of my elbow. there was a lot of blood.
i don't really cry for physical pain so i just stood there looking at my arm. robbie kept saying, "put pressure on it! put pressure on it!" we called the neighbor, who was a nurse, she took everyone to the emergency room and called my mother to meet us. my mother claims someone said something about a knife when she talked to them (doubtful). my father came home to broken glass, nobody home and blood everywhere. he also boarded up that window and refused to put glass in it for several years after which time he switched it to super thick plexiglass. he only recently put real glass in there, i'm 28 years old. i haven't lived there for years.
everything worked out ok. fyi: lidocaine hurts, simple running sutures can kiss my ass and according to the nurses i was the "bravest person to come in all week" (they say that to everyone). i spent a long time in fifth grade not being able to write anything (score!).
the scar on my wrist is the one most asked about by nosey, nosey people.*** those people, pfft. they always say, "what happened???" and then i have to tell them about the cheese. or the bear.
* i actually had to look that up... i guess i've never had to do a part trois. on a related note? french? with all those crazy extra letters? really?
** i also looked up fencing terms which i typed into google as fency terms. and that made me giggle. also? there are a lot of fency terms. ***at least they acknowledge the fact that i know i have a scar on my arm, unlike my eyes, "did you know you have two different colored eyes?"
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