BOOM! The boy’s head painfully slams into the sturdy concrete face first. That clumsy boy was me. It was around the year 2006, back at my old house in Cottage Grove before my move to Newport. It was a typical school night, I got done with my homework and other school work and I was ready to relax for a couple hours before calling it a night. But, I had to take the dogs out first.

“Hey Pablo!” my dad yelled, “Take out the dogs!”
At first I didn’t hear him so I went on went on with my business. After another ear drum destroyer yell I got up. As I walked out of my room I saw his menacing face along with his beard that could be used as a scarf he pointed to the dogs. I sighed disappointingly as my brother and sister snickered like little school girls. When I got to the kitchen (where my short and little dogs were usually imprisoned during the night), they jumped like Mexican jumping beans.

Those dumb little balls of fur. Why did they have to go out? I swear we take them out about five times a day. Why me? Why now? That’s how I think about it now. Now back to my awesome story. Before I picked the first dog up, I looked outside. I was making sure there wasn’t any creepers outside that would steal me or the dog. As I looked into the vast darkness, I must have zoned out or something because I remember voices. “Yes, open the door.” The darkness cheeringly said. Whatever. I thought to myself and then, I opened the door and walked into the dark void of the outdoors.

When I got to the first step (the steps that go down to the driveway) guess what happens. I do not know how this happens, but I TRIP. After I tripped everything went slow motion. As I fell, I remember throwing the tiny fur ball that is my dog and then…..BOOM!! All I could do was scream. “It sounded as if I got stabbed somebody,” that’s how my dad explained it. The terrifying scream lasted about five seconds then my sister and my dad flew right of the door getting the dog and helping me up. My dad got an ice pack and placed it on my head. It was like an electric shock running through my head and body as I resisted the ice pack.

I couldn’t remember if I went to sleep or not but when I got to the school you can guess that people wanted to know what happened so I told them the one minute story and moved on. As I walked to lunch I saw something that astonished me. IT WAS A PICTURE DAY POSTER. “Dang it,” I quietly mumbled to myself. In the next couple days that got me critically thinking, I came up with nothing! So I took it like a man (don’t laugh) and got my picture taken. It would’ve been an awesome picture, if there weren’t any giant red and scabby scars on my face. They healed better than I thought though which was good. I still have that picture today, hiding in the abyss of my closet. It’s probably buried deep within.

This little escapade has a moral to it, one that is very familiar: WATCH YOUR STEP! Today I still can’t believe that happened, especially before picture day. But, every now and then I occasionally watch my step while going down stairs of some sort. What’s funny was that it was only a two step staircase and it could’ve been worse so I consider myself lucky (at times). So I guess this got me to look at life a little bit differently.