Running with scissors

Posted: 14/11/2010 in ravings of a mad woman

How does one discover the terrible outcomes that happen when doing things you mother always told you not to do? Where did such old wives tales and somewhat common sense rules that are passed down from generation to generation actually come from?  As a child I forced my mother to read me a copy of Hillaire Belloc’s “Matilda, who told such dreadful lies” that we got from the local library.  I mean forced in a very literal sense.  We kept renewing it so much the library actually sold it to us just to get us to go away.  I don’t know if it is a story you are familiar with but the long and the short of it is that a young troublemaker by the name of Matilda is left alone by her Aunt and decides to call the fire brigade.  Now I’m sure you can imagine how the story is going but alas it is slightly more sinister than the more familiar tale of the boy who cried wolf. The poor girl is left home alone again as punishment (although her Aunt was going to see a play that didn’t sound all that much fun anyway so I can hardly see how being able to get out of it is punishment!) but this time there really was a fire.  Of course no one actually believed her (again, a townhouse is burning down and no one actually notices?!) and the last line from the book will stay with me always: “And therefore when her aunt returned, Both Matilda and the house were burned.”  Yes, it is harsh, and some might say slightly cruel of my mother to be  reading such a story to a pre-schooler, but it was brilliantly illustrated and it carried a clear message:  Lie and you’ll die horribly! This guy wrote all kinds of stories like this. There was Jim who slipped his nurse’s hand at the zoo and was eaten by a lion and the slightly more outrageous tale of George who was given a giant balloon as a reward for good behaviour but told to keep it away from the candles. Obviously he paid no attention and the balloon burst on the flame and the house collapsed killing most of the occupants.  I have run with scissors on many occasions (but never in front of my mother I must add) and even being the most accident prone of all the worlds idiots, I have never actually fallen and impaled myself with them. No, my usual trick as a child was just the normal running around, head down at full pelt. Obviously this resulted in many a collision with doors, windows and various pieces of furniture and the subsequent trips to Accident and Emergency that these accidents require. In fact there was one point in my childhood that I was in A&E every other weekend! Of course we all grow up with all these “Health and Safety” rules in the home and at school. We all KNOW not to walk in front of a swing in the park (especially if it’s got a bigger kid on it!). We all KNOW that the oven is hot and we all KNOW that if you run around with food in your mouth it WILL end badly. We know these things, and are almost pre-programmed with some of them, but that doesn’t stop these accidents from happening.  Now you know something of my accidental history, you will be far more sympathetic to the “Dude’s” cause: To create me a full body safety suit (something like a full bomb disposal suit or something constructed out of bubble wrap and gaffa tape). He seems to be under the impression that I cannot be left unattended for any length of time at all for fear of me losing a limb or melting my face off, and alas this theory was proven correct just a few days ago. I was off on an adventure to the local Lidl store around the corner to find wonderful things to cook him for dinner when it happened. No sooner had I left the house then I was getting myself into trouble. The black wheely bins had recently been emptied and then left in front of the gateway so I figured I’d bring them back instead of just moving them. I pulled the first one in and up to the wall perfectly well but the second was a different story. As I pulled it into the wall the wheels gave out from under it and the whole thing came down handles first onto my foot. A rather protruding piece of plastic on the edge of the handle came cracking down on joint between my foot and big toe. I can proudly say that I managed to maintain and didn’t scream or even yelp. I managed to swallow back a pained gasp as I realised that some old fella across the street was actually watching me! I decided to be brave and continued on with my mission and started hobbling slightly down the road. I stopped about half way and checked on my foot. I was slightly concerned with what I saw to say the least. Where the bin had landed was a beautifully deep, bright white dent surrounded with a faint green haze and accompanied with a rather numb sensation. Still I hobbled on. Unfortunately I got to the end of the street and realised that I didn’t have the “Dude’s” bank card with me to actually pay for this shopping! So back I went. Whilst I had been walking (trying my hardest not to limp) I had left a message on Facebook for a friend telling of my story and pointing out that the “Dude” was probably going to shout at me for touching the bins in the first place. Of course I was right. I got back and told him what had happened and yes he did tell me off. In fact his actual words were “You were only gone five minutes!! I can’t take my eyes off you for a second can I?!” I put a cold compress on it for five, borrowed his trainers, got his card and set off once again (I’m nothing if not determined). Needless to say it was a very painful injury and I was concerned for a while that I had broken or cracked something in the top of my foot but I don’t think I have. The bruise on the other hand I’m not happy with. Now, if I gently knock myself on something I end up with a massive and rather dark bruise, but if I do something really rather bad, I end up with almost nothing to show for it. The bruise that is there is spreading yes, but I’m sure its fading. It has now been 4 days since I did it and it looks more like dirt than a war wound! I just hope it’s one of those bruises that goes in before it comes out! It’s not so much that I want the sympathy; it’s just that I need to have something impressive to show for such a stupid injury. And so what have I learned from all of this? I am to stay away from all windows and doors, not to touch anything that has small parts, sharp edges, overly warm or hot and most certainly nothing that weighs more than a quarter of my body weight unless wearing the correct Personal Protective Equipment!

 

P.S   Feel free to leave comments telling me about some of your own stupid childhood (or even grown up!!) injuries 😀

Advertisements
Comments
  1. James says:

    An impressive yet painful tale. Reminds me of a really stupid moment in my life where I first got to ride a quad bike. I was over the moon! I had been waiting in line for absolutely ages to have a go, and finally the time had come for hell to unleash! Me on a quad bike! So the main safety tips were to not go too fast and to not turn to sharply. And I just so managed to do both of those things, go way too fast on corners, and turn pretty damn sharply. So first go around the course, although you’d think disaster would strike, I ended up totally accidentally and impressively taking all the turns on two wheels! Which impressed all the 12 year olds, although I was smiling and going with it, admittedly I was shitting myself. But then my second go came along, I tried doing the same thing again which went horribly wrong on the first turn, I ended up turning on no wheels whatsoever and tumbled into the tyres that created the course on my back, completely sandwiched by a quad bike and rather a lot of tyres. I guess we all have to learn some lessons the hard way!

    Once again, nice blog Jeff, keep up the bloggery!
    James

  2. jeffersun says:

    sounds like you had a great time. its definately much the same as me, i’ve been on like 1 giant inflatable in my life without breaking a finger or 3!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s