Igg wrote:
I fell off a bike and landed on my boob.
This one made me laugh so hard I think I scared the neighbors - in New Jersey.
I'll just list all of my painful injuries, and let the world judge me:
-Age 2: I was running around the house with glassware. You know that "don't run with scissors" rule? This works the same. Luckily I was young enough that I didn't scar permanently, but there was apparently a pretty good gash right between my eyes for about a year and a half.
-Age 4: The Great Zipper Fiasco of 1984 (uru, I think this is your field of expertise).
-Age 6: My mother and I were going to take lunch to Dad at his office, when a delivery truck ran a red light and broadsided us in our little sedan. Mom cracked two vertebrae and shattered her left wrist because the driver's side door crumpled in onto her. I suffered my first concussion (more on this later) when my head hit the handrest on the passenger door, and I was picking auto glass out of my head for two months. It actually got pretty cool after I went back to school.
-Age 7: Concussion number 2. I stepped in front of a baseball bat when my friend TJ was trying to show me how to play Tee Ball. I was attempting to tell him, "No, TJ, I know how to play Tee Ball." I was apparently stopped at "how." Three stitches, a skull fracture, and an MRI 15 years later (unrelated reasons) still revealed a small dead patch. Cool, huh?
-Age 13: My first real fight. I got the top knuckle on my left middle finger caught on my opponent's braces. There's a little square scar there still, which has since grown two freckles.
-Age 14: Concussion
numero tres. I was getting up from underneath a table to retrieve a pen.
-Age 15: Zippergate.
-Age 15: Real fight number two. My friend Jason refused to leave the house - so I socked him. He had a keychain in his hand that I didn't know about, and it almost took my left ear off, right along the skull. Thankfully - it didn't.
-Age 16: The first time I go golfing. You know those "America's Funniest Home Videos" bits where gentlemen get hit by a stray golf ball, and talk like ladies for three or four hours?
That's me. I earned a nickname that really ought not be repeated.
-Age 21: Riding my bicycle back from work one night, my front tire hit a rock of some sort, which I didn't see due to the darkness. The front wheel immediately turned hard to the left, and the bicycle stopped its forward motion. I didn't, and in the process of my flight, my left hip was gouged open by the brake handle (there's a line half an inch high and three inches long) down below the layer of fat. I managed to fly a good distance, but what goes up...
I got road rash on my left elbow, both knees, and my left forearm. Thankfully, my beautiful, beautiful face was left undamaged. Also thankfully, the young lady who I may or may not have been trying to impress, and who saw my very best Superman impression
ever, didn't see me cry, yelp, or scream. Because I didn't. I may have sworn, and I whimpered later. A lot. But she wasn't there to see that.
I think that's all the major ones. At least, the ones I remember.