My first bicycle wreck. I was going downhill with someone riding on the handlebars. We hit a rock and while my passenger was able to just jump ship and land on her feet, I did not escape being introduced to asphalt face first. I tell people that this is why my nose is so small.
I almost fell out of a car while being carpooled to school. Too many kids in the backseat and the door popped open. There were no seatbelts back in the day so I guess I was lucky that the person sitting next to me grabbed my and pulled me back in.
I got stuck up on some huge rocks that we were climbing near the stream. Dad had to come rescue me.
Near the same stream there were the remains of some building. At least I think it was remains... There was a wall with dirt against it that was about one and a half stories high. Kinda like what was left was the basement part of the building. You could get to the top by walking and when you looked down on the other side of the wall you could see that people were using that as a dump. There were mattresses in the 'dump' and we used to jump off the wall onto the mattresses. We were stupid.
We used to go up to Devil's Hopyard which was some big park thing. Riding in someone else's car, their mom driving, she got going as fast as 100 mph... on a twisty, hilly, country road. I'm surprised that we survived Connecticut.
Don ran around in the house and tripped and had to get stitches (again) from his encounter with the coffee table.
That reminds me... After Scotty moved a family with 3 daughters moved into his house. One day while we were all running around in the boulder field behind the house I was stuck by a thought. I wonder what would happen if I deliberately tripped this girl. So I stuck out my foot and tripped her. She went head first into a boulder. Stitches. I don't know why people kept playing with me.
Mom got us a 'vaccuu-form' from a garage sale. We spent many hours letting that thing get hot enough to cook an egg and making dumb things out of sheets of plastic. I burned myself more than a few times on that thing.
I started doing paint-by-numbers here. I didn't always follow the color key. When there was leftover paint I always saved it. This will be important later when we move to Guam.
We had a small raised garden bed behind our house where I planted watermelon seeds. I grew a watermelon that was about 2 feet long, but no one told me that I should rotate it every once in a while, so while it looked pretty amazeballs from the top, the underneaths were all brown and got rotten. I was sad about that cause I wanted to eat that watermelon that I grew myself.
I took ballet lessons. Sometimes I didn't want to go. On one of those times I threw my ballet slippers out the car window on the way. Mom was not pleased.
Dad went to Puerto Rico on his submarine. Whenever he came home he brought presents. He brought me a 6 foot long blue fuzzy snake this time. I bragged about this stuffed snake coming from Puerto Rico for YEARS. I loved that snake. Much later, when I was over 30, my mom finally told me that the snake came from some toy store in Groton because dad forgot to pick up gifts in Puerto Rico. Even after all that time and the fact that I hadn't actually had that snake for almost 20 years, this made me a little sad. Stupid american snake.
Huh... I"m pretty sure most of this stuff is true.
Wow... I look back at some of this and realize... kids just don't have dangerous fun any more. How do they learn?
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