October 16, 2009
Play with a hose, splash water…someone gets sprayed in the eye and starts crying, mother scoops up and brings inside, flowers drenched in puddles of mud, children run in circles, hose left spurting frigid water, stream down the asphalt driveway, bike rider comes along and skids, scraping her knee, bits of wet grass and mud stuck to her legs, leaves her bike, wailing and limping back home, parents come out and she wails louder, always nice to exaggerate a bit, makes for such a better story, parents tell her what a good girl she is, how she’s so brave and hardly cries, she goes to school the next day in a skirt sporting her flowery band aid and relegating her epic tale of how nature was out to punish her, how there was a branch sitting in the middle of the road just waiting to trip whoever dared to cross without permission, how she flew off her bike and skinned off her knee, how any car could have come and flattened her, but she was brave, and pulled herself up despite her agonizing flesh wound, and dragged herself back home where she fainted from exhaustion.

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