watch my older sister Rachel wrap my leg in an ace bandage. I was accident-prone.
The worst accidents happened on my bike. I remember the #1 rule was "no riding barefoot." All my friends rode barefoot, but my mom was afraid we'd get our toes caught in the spokes. I thought she was being overprotective, of course.
Until the one time...
We were living at seminary in Kansas City, and had this big, gigantic hill out of sight of our apartment. But it was not just any hill. It was a juggernaut like Mt. Everest, where the slope is 87 degrees and at the bottom is just a curb that leads onto the blacktop dead end on one end, and a continuing hill covered with blacktop leading down to our apartment on the other end.
Rachel got on her bike with shoes. I got on mine barefooted. She warned me to keep my legs straight out to the side. But somehow, halfway down the hill, I tried to use my feet to slow me down, and the right foot slipped forward and into the speeding spokes. It chewed my toes up pretty good. But it slowed me down and I was only more afraid of the spanking I'd get for direct disobedience. I think my mom took one look at the mangled metatarsals and decided I'd learned my lesson.
The toes healed, but I've never ridden barefoot again --nor allowed my children to. But I'm sure they have. You know what they say about the apple ....
3 comments:
We learned by doing quite often I think. Not always the best way but effective : ) Sweet sister picture.
Ouch!!! Your story reminds me of a time at Kanopolis when I was a kid. Two friends and I mounted a bike together to ride down a little dirt road with a fairly steep slope and a lot of potholes! I rode on the handlebars (duh) so when we took the tumble I went first. (I was barefoot of course… and I wasn't wearing football gear, so I met with a hard gravelly road.) I was all bunged up and had gravel imbedded in my palms and knees and skinned up toes. I was hurt, but maybe more upset that I'd been stupid enough to ride on the handlebars!
It is a sweet sister picture! Awwww!
Ouch is the first thing I thought of also. I had skinned knee that just never would heal for the longest time due to my bike accidents. What made my mom the maddest though was when the accidents happened on the same day(s) I wore long pants and the pants got a hole in them. Okay, I'm sure she really didn't like seeing all my blooding knees either.
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