Saturday, February 11, 2012

August 21, 2008


I was cleaning up my computer's desktop this afternoon when I stumbled upon a folder called, "Boo Boo"...

Three years ago on my 18th birthday, my mom, brother, and I drove to Merritt Island in Welland for an adventure I'll never forget. We ventured on the bike path, with my mom riding her bike and my brother and I on our roller blades.

Eventually we came to a fork in the path where bicyclists and roller bladers had to separate. So, my mom went uphill while my brother and I were expected to blade downhill. For those of you who know my brother, he has a competitive nature, so he challenged me to a race down hill.

Everything was going well, until the path leveled out again and my blades trailed through a pile of gravel, or what I call "the gravelly pit of death". Before I knew it, my left leg was dragging along the pavement and all I felt was pain.

The best part about me falling, is that there was a woman walking towards us on the path and she witnessed the entire thing. What a sight that must have been for her. "Hey family. I was walking along the bike path today, when I saw this girl completely wipe out on her roller blades and collide with the pavement. Not your average sight to see, but more interesting than the squirrel I saw a few minutes previous to this incident."

Anyways, where was I?

Oh, right. Me being an idiot and where the shortest shorts possible while rollerblading.

My mom had no idea what happened and she was waiting anxiously up at the top of the hill.

The next hour consisted of my brother and my mom helping me get back to the parking lot while my scrape is burning with pain. Our hike back to the truck must have been pretty entertaining as many people stared as they passed us.

Just picture a girl with one of her short legs tucked into her underwear, crying, while her brother is pulling her, with his roller blades, down the path. Oh, and a very supportive mother biking along side them.

This second best part? One week after my birthday I was moving away to my first year of university and had to spend orientation week with a bandage over my leg. Nothing says "celebration" like puss and bandages.



I look like I'm ready to hit the beach, not conquer bike paths

Casually opening presents as if the gash on my leg doesn't exist




- yours truly

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