Spaghetti Noodle Arm

April 22, 2009
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I ran up my cream-colored carpet stairs
To my cluttered room
And quickly grabbed my red convertible car
Just big enough for Barbie and Kelly.

I hurried down the steps
With the car cradled in my arms
Like a mother holding her new born baby.
Never once looking where my tiny feet were stepping.

Only a few steps left
Then

Suddenly
My toes caught the carpet and
My body tumbled downward
Like an uncontrollable slinky.
My hands sent the red Barbie accessory
Over the wood railing.

In that moment,
One consistent thought bounced through my head:
“This is not going to end well.”

Sooner than one could imagine
I was on the ground,
Landing with my arms
In a tight, locked position
As a loud shatter screamed from my bone.

A burning fire of pain shot to my elbow.
I gripped my arm close to my chest
Trying to extinguish the flame.

“MOM! MOM! I BROKE MY ARM AGAIN.... I KNOW I DID!”

Mom sprinted to where I lay and
Her face began to giggle
As her eyes stated that she was not surprised
For this was now the third time
My spaghetti noodle arm
Had completely broken.





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