Guest Post: Kids And Funny Accidents
Today's guest post comes to us courtesy of man about town, interviewer extraordinaire, Michael Manning. Hopefully the link will work for you because it is one of the few in the Russian roulette style casualties of my internet connection this week. But back to Manning. (that sounds like a great title for an eighties sitcom, doesn't it?) If you like this story he's got a ton more where that came from...oh and he's a Rick Springfield fan, too. If that doesn't sell you, I don't know what will.
Don't get me wrong. There's nothing funny about an accident. But when a funny mishap occurs where a child cries but is not injured, it's amazing to hear what parents or siblings say in response.
For example, a small kid falls down in their driveway and cries. The parent says: "See? That's what happens when you don't listen!" Oh, how comforting, right? Or worse: "That's what you get when you act stupid. Get over
here!" Well, I have some memories that are actually FUNNY!
Here's one: A little kid on the street I grew up on had a mini-collision with some other small kid as the result of trying to share the sidewalk side-by-side with two bicycles. One fell down onto some soft lawn and other kept riding away for about ten feet before he stopped and came back to help. They were about 5 years old.
Cast of Characters:
1.) Kid who fell down
2.) Kid who yells that his friend fell down
3.) Hurt kid's oldest sister who comes to the rescue
4.) Me coming up on this scene as a kid on my bike.
Hurt Kid: (crying) "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"
Kid #2: "Christy! Over here!! Danny just fell off his bike. Hurry!!!"
Sister: (arrives quickly smling to interview brother) "Are you okay?"
Hurt Kid: (shakes his head to indicate "No") "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"
Sister: (Calm) "What happened?"
Kid #2: (Eager to submit report): "Um, Danny tried to pass me on the sidewalk right here and our bikes got tangled".
Sister: (to brother) "Is that what happened?"
Hurt kid: (Tears mixed with runny nose): "The handlebar hit me here." (points to his stomach).
Sister: (examines site of injury by lifting T-shirt; it looks okay): "I'll bet that hurt".
Hurt Kid: (calmer now just tears).
Sister: "Did you puncture your intestines?"
Hurt Kid: (Nods head to indicate "Yes", now drying tears; all's well/ends well)
Sister: (Helps him up and we clear the accident scene).
_____________
I had a used jalopy bike with a 26 inch frame. As a small kid I could barely reach the pedals. Eager to make it look like a "chopper" I removed the front fender. The bike clanged and made noise with loose parts hitting the fender when I rode over bumps. It was dusk and I had the perfect opportunity to show off to a porch full of neighbors across the street. My father had this great idea of using trash can lids as forms to pour in concrete, let it dry then flip over the concrete circles and line them up along the left side of our house to the sidewalk as a cool modern-looking walkway. It had just rained. Enter Evel Knievel (ME with my ring-a-ding-ding bicycle tooling down 'the path less traveled'). My objective was to throw my handlebars to
the right and skid with the back wheel locked up to come to a cool stop.
Unfortunately, things didn't quite work out that way. The bike slid out from under me when I reached the sidewalk and the result was the sound of metal parts hitting the concrete and this little kid going down on an over-sized bike (Oh, God I wish I had a VHS of this filmed from across the street). I scraped up my right leg after the crash while the porch filled with my neighbors were roaring with laughter. I was in tears hobbling madly into my house for critical care. I think I was too embarrassed to go back and retrieve my bicycle. (Isn't it a scream that I abandoned it there?). The sight of that abandoned crashed bike still cracks me up! I believe my father went out and walked it around the back of the house into the garage.
_____________
Last one (I promise). To redeem myself, I challenged the kid across the street whose family was roaring with laughter to a "drag race" along 8 houses. Since he and his pal were using a slick looking three speed bike, I called in a "ringer". My best friend Alan who had the strongest legs and was the fastest runner on the street would drive for me. Without my knowledge, our competitors took one of their father's wrenches and loosened both bolts on my bike that held the front wheel on the forks (are you reading this Paul, Sr. of "American Chopper"?) then thumb tightened them thinking it would be funny if the wheel came off. We met at the house that would become our "Starting Line". I yelled out "Amber, Amber, Amber, Amber, GREEN!" (since we didn't have real dragway lights) and off they were, the slick Raleigh 3 speed and my clunker driven by "Big Al". Midway down the street, the front wheel shifted dangerously left but Al stood up and pumped those pedals harder than ever and we beat them across the "Finish Line". YAY! Idiots. They were upset about losing, but seemed delighted that the front wheel almost came off. Al was spirited, but upset that he could have been badly injured. Our Idiot pals produced the wrench and we tightened the wheel and centered it. VICTORY FOR THE UNDERDOGS!
Don't get me wrong. There's nothing funny about an accident. But when a funny mishap occurs where a child cries but is not injured, it's amazing to hear what parents or siblings say in response.
For example, a small kid falls down in their driveway and cries. The parent says: "See? That's what happens when you don't listen!" Oh, how comforting, right? Or worse: "That's what you get when you act stupid. Get over
here!" Well, I have some memories that are actually FUNNY!
Here's one: A little kid on the street I grew up on had a mini-collision with some other small kid as the result of trying to share the sidewalk side-by-side with two bicycles. One fell down onto some soft lawn and other kept riding away for about ten feet before he stopped and came back to help. They were about 5 years old.
Cast of Characters:
1.) Kid who fell down
2.) Kid who yells that his friend fell down
3.) Hurt kid's oldest sister who comes to the rescue
4.) Me coming up on this scene as a kid on my bike.
Hurt Kid: (crying) "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"
Kid #2: "Christy! Over here!! Danny just fell off his bike. Hurry!!!"
Sister: (arrives quickly smling to interview brother) "Are you okay?"
Hurt Kid: (shakes his head to indicate "No") "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"
Sister: (Calm) "What happened?"
Kid #2: (Eager to submit report): "Um, Danny tried to pass me on the sidewalk right here and our bikes got tangled".
Sister: (to brother) "Is that what happened?"
Hurt kid: (Tears mixed with runny nose): "The handlebar hit me here." (points to his stomach).
Sister: (examines site of injury by lifting T-shirt; it looks okay): "I'll bet that hurt".
Hurt Kid: (calmer now just tears).
Sister: "Did you puncture your intestines?"
Hurt Kid: (Nods head to indicate "Yes", now drying tears; all's well/ends well)
Sister: (Helps him up and we clear the accident scene).
_____________
I had a used jalopy bike with a 26 inch frame. As a small kid I could barely reach the pedals. Eager to make it look like a "chopper" I removed the front fender. The bike clanged and made noise with loose parts hitting the fender when I rode over bumps. It was dusk and I had the perfect opportunity to show off to a porch full of neighbors across the street. My father had this great idea of using trash can lids as forms to pour in concrete, let it dry then flip over the concrete circles and line them up along the left side of our house to the sidewalk as a cool modern-looking walkway. It had just rained. Enter Evel Knievel (ME with my ring-a-ding-ding bicycle tooling down 'the path less traveled'). My objective was to throw my handlebars to
the right and skid with the back wheel locked up to come to a cool stop.
Unfortunately, things didn't quite work out that way. The bike slid out from under me when I reached the sidewalk and the result was the sound of metal parts hitting the concrete and this little kid going down on an over-sized bike (Oh, God I wish I had a VHS of this filmed from across the street). I scraped up my right leg after the crash while the porch filled with my neighbors were roaring with laughter. I was in tears hobbling madly into my house for critical care. I think I was too embarrassed to go back and retrieve my bicycle. (Isn't it a scream that I abandoned it there?). The sight of that abandoned crashed bike still cracks me up! I believe my father went out and walked it around the back of the house into the garage.
_____________
Last one (I promise). To redeem myself, I challenged the kid across the street whose family was roaring with laughter to a "drag race" along 8 houses. Since he and his pal were using a slick looking three speed bike, I called in a "ringer". My best friend Alan who had the strongest legs and was the fastest runner on the street would drive for me. Without my knowledge, our competitors took one of their father's wrenches and loosened both bolts on my bike that held the front wheel on the forks (are you reading this Paul, Sr. of "American Chopper"?) then thumb tightened them thinking it would be funny if the wheel came off. We met at the house that would become our "Starting Line". I yelled out "Amber, Amber, Amber, Amber, GREEN!" (since we didn't have real dragway lights) and off they were, the slick Raleigh 3 speed and my clunker driven by "Big Al". Midway down the street, the front wheel shifted dangerously left but Al stood up and pumped those pedals harder than ever and we beat them across the "Finish Line". YAY! Idiots. They were upset about losing, but seemed delighted that the front wheel almost came off. Al was spirited, but upset that he could have been badly injured. Our Idiot pals produced the wrench and we tightened the wheel and centered it. VICTORY FOR THE UNDERDOGS!
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