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1964 – I was born a healthy child into a standard middle class family with one brother, one sister, a loving stay-at-home mom and a wonderful dad.  How could it possibly go wrong?

1967 – All normal kids see beds as potential trampolines.  They just can’t help it, and I’m no different.  Truth be told, I’m no different now as an “adult”.  My advice?  Don’t choose a bed with a solid wood bookcase headboard.  One wrong jump and… well, all I know is I was happily jumping on the bed and then slowly coming to on the couch.

1968 – When you are running on a playground, especially if you are running as fast as you possibly can, laughing with glee about how no one could possibly ever catch you, you should occasionally glance forward to avoid any playground equipment poles that might be in your way.  They’re very heavy and generally sunk deep into concrete.  When you play Skull versus Jungle Gym Pole, Skull generally loses by a knockout.

1972 – It’s a good feeling when you can ride a bike on the streets around your house.  It’s like you rule the neighborhood!  Every once in a while you think “Look Ma, no hands!” then quickly grab the handlebars as the front tire starts to shimmy.  Even cooler is when have the skills to give a friend a ride on those same handlebars.  The two of you are unstoppable!  Except when those handlebars start to shimmy and then twist wildly and you can’t seem to get them under control.  You wake up with your head on the curb, draped across the gutter with no friend in sight.  Someone’s getting the hairy eyeball at school tomorrow.

1976 – “Can we go yet Mom?  Huh?  Can we?”  Man, you should never tell a kid you’re going someplace fun until you’ve got the car keys in your hand and the doorknob in the other.  If you still have to get the laundry out of the dryer, just wait to say anything, especially if that dryer is all the way out in the garage, which isn’t even attached to the house!  What, do you think kids have willpower or something?  It reminds me of the videos where the dogs have bacon balanced on their noses.  You can see how hard they’re trying to be patient, but every muscle in their body is quivering in anticipation.  Wait for it, wait for it… okay!  The dog flips the bacon over with no wasted movement and the treat disappears.  I went outside to see if my mom was emptying the dryer fast enough (seriously Mom, don’t fold the clothes!) but she was just finishing up as I rounded the corner.  The last thing I saw was the garage door closing and coming down on my head.

2011 – Vacation time!  And I so deserve it.  I’ve been working mass quantities of mandatory overtime, and I don’t have one of those Pretty Girl Desk Jobs.   I sweat for a living.  I get dog drool on me for a living, if I’m lucky.  I negotiate with drunks and junkies for a living.  Worst of all, I work for one of the most hated companies in the state.  I need a vacation.  The Boyfriend is amazing, setting up a sweet vacation, not too far away, but far enough to get a river and squirrels and flowers and real live pine trees.  We even drove through snow in June!  We decided to rent some ATVs and go riding through the woods, along the border of a national park.  Just beautiful, and our guide even told us creepy stories about an abandoned house on the route.  Now I’m an experienced ATV rider, well at least I was before my divorce, which was… 8 years ago.  Haven’t been on one since, but it’s like riding a bike, right?  It can’t be too hard (see 1972 above), can it?  I remember entering a turn, thinking “You know, I don’t think I’m quite going to make it…” and then suddenly I was being asked if I knew my name (I got it right!) date of birth (probably not a good time to lie about my age) and where I was (the correct answer would be “Laying upside down on some rocks in a heap a foot away from my vehicle” for $200, Pat).  I was aware enough to realize I couldn’t move my body, but not aware enough to realize that was a really bad thing.  Fortunately my brain finished rebooting and I eventually was able to sit up and even stand.  Hurray!

So that would make for concussion #5, and I’m not even counting the ones where I wasn’t knocked out.  I didn’t list the bicycle I walked into that required 2 staples into my scalp (who hangs a bicycle from the eaves of their house?) or the time I slammed my head into an air conditioning unit at work or… well, you know what I mean.  I could go on for days.

And that, my friends, is how you make a blogger.

I’d wear a helmet, but I think my writing would suffer.  Demolition derby anyone?
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2 thoughts on “The Making of a Blogger

  1. Pingback: Beating My Head Against A Wall | That Writer Broad – Amy D Wilson

  2. Pingback: Funny CW moments - Page 485 | Mark's Daily Apple Health and Fitness Forum page 485

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