While Janelle and I were working at her brother’s place the other day, she had to leave to go pick up her niece who had fallen and scraped her knee. as Janelle bandaged her up back home, I tried to make the experience less painful by offering the following true story, where I also scraped my knee.
Around the age of 14 or so I was misguided enough to think I was cool (I later learned that this was still part of my awkward stage). I listened to Nirvana tapes, I had a duct tape wallet, and I wore loose corduroy pants to declare my awesomeness to the world. One night during a church youth activity, a few friends of mine accompanied me as we sneaked out and started to play in the rain that had formed large deep puddles in the church parking lot.
After maybe a half hour or 45 minutes I saw my mom’s van moving away as though she were about to drive back home and leave me at the church. I really did not want to wait for other arrangements so I took off running after her. About halfway between the puddle and the minivan I felt my legs freeze in place and my body’s momentum threw me to the ground. In order to protect my teeth and facial features, I had instinctively thrown my hands out in front of me.
You see, I had forgotten to wear a belt that day (as was my custom) and, while I played in the puddles, my pants started to become heavier without my knowing it. When I started to run the pants had in fact fallen to my ankles, and they tripped me.
Fortunately, my teeth and face survived unscathed.
Unfortunately, the pants that now lay about my feet had failed to protect my knees.
Fortunately, I wore underwear that day.
Unfortunately, I was now lying dazed and soaked to the bone in the middle of my church’s parking lot in my sopping wet underwear.
I scraped my hands and knees on the asphalt, but worst of all, my pride was horribly bruised. Each of the five injuries still bears a faint scar from that day’s events.
