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I still can see the scar everytime I get a haircut. I was probably 6 years old, playing a daring game of slip and slide...on the concrete.
First it was Frankie, my next door neighbor, diving off the brick stoop and bellyflopping onto the wet, slippery concrete. Trying to outdo each other, each dive became quicker and more brazen, until my turn came up for the last time.
I had misjudged the edge of the stoop, slipping and falling backward on an invisible banana peel (picture a Warner Bros. cartoon...). Well, my skull didn't misjudge the stoop, made of those red bricks with nice sharp edges.
Wham! Stars, blinding pain, darkness, then me howling. Oh, and blood, lots of it.
Frankie's mom drove me to the hospital with my dad. I had somewhat calmed down until I saw the sign. It said HOSPITAL. Then they said "Doctor." I said, hell no. Howling and bleeding, I locked them out of the car :)
Eventually, I did get those stitches. I still don't remember how they got me out of that car...
Posted by sfilippone at June 3, 2003 10:04 PM