For anyone who knows me, this won’t come as a big surprise, but I’m going to put it out there anyway . . . I’m accident prone. There, I said it. Ok, ok. The reality of it is that this isn’t really any great secret.
Let’s look back on a couple of the more notable accidents in my life:
2008 – the “I rear ended you because I thought you already turned” incident
2007 – the “I rear ended you because I thought you already turned” incident
2007 – the “table saw” incident
2006 – the “catch the softball with your glove and not your knee” incident
2003 – the “I rear ended you because I thought you already turned” incident
2001 – the “I slipped and fell down half a flight of stairs” incident
2000 – the “when you sprain your knee on a blind date maybe you should tell your date” incident
1998 – the “slammed my finger in a door at my new job” incident
1992 – the “really I couldn’t tell that the sliding glass door was closed” incident
1991 – the “got my finger caught in a clamp in shop class” incident
1991 – the “showing off your rollerblading skills is only asking for trouble” incident
1988 – the “sprained my wrist on the playground” incident
1984 – the “got a rock stuck in my head running to grandma’s from Will-O-Way” incident
1983 – the “slammed my finger in a door on the way to the pool” incident
I’m sure if I thought about it I could come up with more. Heck, I’m sure if you thought about it, you could come up with more, because odds are pretty good that you have been in my presence when I’ve injured myself.
Let me paint another picture for you. I worked at McDonald’s in high school which led to the development of this mathematic equation:
Melanie + a building full of hot grease, grills, and fryers = A worker’s comp claim waiting to happen
Now that you get the idea. Here’s what happened the weekend before last. I was in my garage building a bed (pictures to come later) when the 4″x4″ post I was trying to screw onto the footboard rolled off the frame where I was holding it at shoulder height and onto my toe. The result:
I thought I broke it. Now, I’m not so sure. Either way, not very fun.
The next day I was walking in the Dick’s Sporting Goods Store when I walked past two 10-year-old boys holding baseball bats. One of them had his back to me and took a full-on swing right as I walked past. The result:
Seriously? Who gets hit by a kid with a bat in a store? And what do you do when that happens? I, for some unknown reason, got embarrassed. I’m not sure why. I was walking around minding my own business. At any rate, the kid turned around and gasped and I just played it off and kept walking, only to turn the corner and want to die. Don’t worry. I’m currently formulating a better response for the next time I get hit by a kid with a bat in a retail store because I’m sure it’s bound to happen.
I’m not sure what the answer to my accident-proneness is. I would say I shouldn’t leave the house, but statistics show that most accidents happen in the home — or in my case, the garage. So, next time you see me with a bruise or two (which will inevitably coincide with the next time you see me at all) just be as grateful as I am that I have good health insurance.