Scars

I was a fairly clumsy child.

At our former house, we had a pool in the back yard. At around age three I managed to fall into that pool. It’s a vague memory. I can recall sinking to the bottom, sitting cross-legged on the pools ‘floor’. We were having a family dinner that day, and thankfully one of my cousin’s dove in and retrieved me. I can recall that there was a lot of fuss over the whole thing, but that’s where the memory ends.

In our backyard, we also had this area that was essentially a dirt pit where we used to play. We had a swing set in this dirt pit that wasn’t particularly fastened down. A year or so after the pool incident my younger brother, older cousin and I were playing around the swing set. I don’t remember who was swinging, but it wasn’t me, because one leg of it lifted up and when it came back down my thumb was in the way. I still have the scar from that fiasco on the thumb of my left hand.

In the same time frame, we were over to my grandparents for a family dinner. I don’t remember which holiday it was, but that’s irrelevant. My slightly younger cousin, younger brother, and I were running through the house. In true klutz fashion I wasn’t paying any attention to where I was going and ran smack-dab into the doorjamb of the next room. Brilliant, I know. That scar is fairly faint, but it’s still there on the left side of my forehead.

I’m lucky to have made it to the age of five, let alone twenty. :D

Creepy Old Men

I almost hit a deer on my way home from work. In my defense it was dark and the stupid deer came out of nowhere. Luckily the accident was avoided.

All in all though today was a strange day, an excessively strange day. For one thing I seemed to be constantly tripping and falling over things. I am not the most graceful person, I fully admit this, but I was strangely clumsy today.

Then of course there was the creepy old guy episode. Oh. My. God. Why do old men think that it is alright to go to public places and say creepy things to the people that work at those places? Why? I would seriously like to know.

So today I went over to help out in the fudge shop for maybe a half hour, and this couple walks in. They picked out their fudge and then I asked about where they wanted to pay for it. They could pay for it then, or wait until they went downstairs. The guy says, “I can pay for it here, as long as you don’t charge me twice.” He could have easily stopped there, but did he? No. He continued with, “Or else I’d have to give you a hickey and you’d have trouble explaining that one.”

What the hell? I have now officially heard it all. Eh, now I really don’t want to go to work tomorrow…