People often ask me, “Were you dropped on your head as a baby?” To which I replay, “That is a nonsensical question. If I was, I surely wouldn’t remember because babies have something called infantile amnesia, which prevents them from remembering things before the age of two. Just one reason most of your childhood immunizations are given before age two. Not to mention, your “mommy issues” would be a whole lot worse if they included that whole birthing process memory. And secondly, if I was dropped on my head, I would likely not remember it due to being dropped on my head. So there in lie the fallacies of your question.” And since, by that point, they had walked away long before then; I am basically talking to myself, which is always the most intelligent conversation I can get.
However, if they had ever asked if I dropped myself on my head as a child, the answer would have been, “Which time do you want to know about?”
One in particular stands out as a doozy, and probably explains why I am the way I am.
We had a train track that ran behind our house. The track was lined with trees on both sides.
Being a boy of about 9 or 10, I loved climbing trees.
However, mom always said to stay away from the train tracks.
Probably had something to do with her fears that I would become a hobo, complete with harmonica and a bundle tied to a stick, and would travel the world, instead of providing her with grandkids someday.
Might have been the “smashed by a train” thing too.
Regardless, being the obedient son that I was, I would often climb the trees along the tracks.
This particular day, mom caught me in the tree.
She came out in the yard, and yelled something to the effect of, “(insert complete full name here) get out of that tree right now before I bust your tail!”
Knowing that I was destined to have a meeting with the belt, and in my haste to get out of the tree, I lost my grip.
Down I went, a million feet, head first, and landed on a pile of railroad ties.
A normal child would have died, head split open like a jack-o-lantern the day after Halloween.
But not me. I was blessed with an unusually hard head.
I picked myself up, and stumbled up the bank and across the yard towards mom, where I nearly blacked out at her feet.
Mom, fearing she had just witnessed her child fall to his death and frightened by the sight of my 3 enormous goose eggs that sprouted up like extra heads, was too relieved to beat me.
WIN!
18 comments:
LOL. That explains things.
Imagine how much better your blog would be if you hadn't suffered traumatic brain injuries.....
Oh well, maybe you'll be funny in your next life.
My mom told me that my dad was watching football and he left me on the bed, and I rolled off, and hit my head on the bed frame, and my head split open. That explains a lot of things about me.
I wish I could play harmonica like a hobo.
I used to climb trees. Luckily I never fell out of one.
Cause girls can climb better than boys obviously.
My mom would have said, “Don’t try to fool me with that fake cracked skull, concussion, passing out thing. Get off the ground, your bleeding all over the grass. Get up and take your licking like the disrespectful kid you are. I told you not to climb those trees and, now, look what happened.” as she was kicking me in the sides. She was loving and understanding like that.
Clearly slamming your head into railroad ties has helped you along in life immensely.
My son has a head injury every second week. Guess girls are just more co-ordinated than boys.
Pretty sure Infantile Amnesia gives way directly to Selective Hearing.
This entry should probably take the place of your "about me" section. Would explain a whole lot more...
If only I knew injuring myself badly would get me out of beatings.. the things I would have done to myself to avoid getting chased with the wooden spoon.
All that running. Yuck.
I didn't fall on my head until last week, but I was wondering: do you think I could get away with blaming "priors" on it?
--Coopah
Do you type the way you speak? I mean like...that whole first paragraph I read on one breath (yes, I read aloud...all the smurt kids do)really fast and I think I almost passed out. Which made me laugh because then I thought about you sitting infront of your computer typing that out while holding your breath because in actuality you would've made the whole statement in one breath and then fallen over which would've been really funny and caused laughter which consequently would've meant even less oxygen circulating in your body.
So, do you?
Explains. SO. Much.
Every time I ask my mom if she dropped me on my head when I was little, she raises her eyebrows and says, "You'll never know, now will you?".
How's that for evil parenting tricks?
Ian's day is cooler cause he doesn't require you to write about things which you don't remember due to being dropped on the head. That and being pregnant. That excuse works for everything.
I knew I recognized a fellow head conker! I fell down cement stairs with my little tricycle on top of me and I haven't been the same since! I lost my memory and everything! I still have a rotten memory. I also am very clumsy. Walked into walls, fell down stairs, fell up stairs. Course, that could be attributed to the fact that I was blind as a bat and didn't get glasses till I was in 8th grade!
I have never dropped any of my kids on their head...that they remember....
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