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It was a ROCK!
I'm one of those people that doesn't remember much from their childhood, but one story I think about, and I think about often, comes from when I was around 8 years old.
I'd just had the 3rd eye surgery to fix my lazy eye, and was out tentatively riding my bike, as kids do. And as kids do, especially ones that had surgery not a month before and still have sensitivity to light do, I fell right on my fokkin face like a doof lol. I wasn't hurt. Heck, there wasn't even any blood. But my knee was a little sore. And there, embedded in my knee? Was a rock. Me, being a young child and ill equipped for such clearly devastating bodily injuries, went to my parents for assistance. They had never failed me before! Surely they would know how to fix a case of rock-in-my-knee! But alas, as I stood there, half panicked in our cozy little kitchen (better light in there is what they always said), they told me, t'was not a rock. T'was a scab. Now I, being a clever child that understood how scabs look and how rocks look, was dubious. In fact, my feelings at the time were something along the lines of, "????????????? IT'S A ROCK???????????" But even when this little rock wiggled itself free, even when i held this precious little pebble in my own two hands, they denied it. It was just a scab. ... Now, I'm almost 26 years old. I remember this all too well. I remember my distress and their denial, and it's hilarious, like seriously what the fuck it was so obviously a rock?? And I tell mother dearest, I say, "Nana do you remember that thing with the rock?" And I tell her this story again. ... "It was a scab." ......... OH MY GOD !!!!!!!!!!!!! IT W A S A R O C K |
Oh man I had a rock in my knee once too. I pulled it out because I was freaked out >3>
No fun you should have kept it |
aww yiss rock buddies
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Good thing you didn't get the case of boulder-to-the-knee. Still, I think they're denying it was a rock to make themselves not feel stupid.
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Biking accidents! Those are always...fun. Still've a tiny scar on my left thumb from the one a few years ago.
Also, I mis-parsed "3rd eye surgery" as, uh, 3rd-eye surgery. Welp. Storytime! When I was a kid, I saw a bunny in our front yard and ran around chasing it. I was wearing a dress. There were sharp pointy igneous rocks in our front yard. Yep. Moral of the story, rubbing alcohol hurts like fuck. |
I have a scar on my left knee from skidding out on gravel while trying to turn at high speed. It looks like three little lines. I haven't made that poor choice since. lol
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But it wasn't a rock!
It was a roooooooock lobster! |
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Rock lobSTER!
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... what am I supposed to do with a herd of elephants?
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No issues with rocks despite the fact that I would routinely play in gravel pits and one area that was all unfinished rock foundation. Mostly I think I just got skid marks.
My crowning childhood achievement was attempting a flip on the monkey bars (sitting on top, leaning over and grabbing the bars from underneath and flipping over), but I overextended my reach and basically trebuchet'd myself into the back fence. I lived. Nobody saw, but they might have heard the reverberating echo from the impact. My cousin bailed on his bike and my aunt was picking denim threads from his jeans out of his knees for a bit. |
I never had the issue with rocks.. for me it was baby pine trees =w=,
I was 16, going down a hill, went out of control into a baby pine tree.. I think I'd rather have the rock that isnt a rock but a scab but is also a rock o3o |
Yes, baby trees are tougher than they look. I sledded into one. Head first. Ow.
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